GIFT    OF 
JANE  K FATHER 


THE  BOYHOOD  OF 
ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 


The    old    Stone    House    where    Abe    and    Austin    often    stopped 
on  their  way  to  and  from  the  Hodgen  Mill 


THE  BOYHOOD  OF 
ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 


J.  ROGERS  GORE 


FROM  THE  SPOKEN  NARRATIVES  OF 
AUSTIN  GOLLAHER 


Illustrated  from  Photographs 


INDIANAPOLIS 

THE  BOBBS-MERRILL  COMPANY 
PUBLISHERS 


COPYRIGHT  1921 
THK  BOBBS-MEHRILL  COMPANY 


Printed  in  the  United  States  of  America 


PREB8  OF 

BRAUNWORTH   A   CO. 

BOOK   MANUFACTURERS 

BROOKLYN.    N.  Y. 


PREFACE 

The  following  stories  about  the  boy  Abra 
ham  Lincoln  were  given  to  me  at  intervals, 
during  a  period  of  four  or  five  years,  by 
Austin  Gollaher,  who  spent  all  his  life 
among  the  hills  of  LaRue  County,  Ken 
tucky,  having  been  born  in  that  county  in 
the  year  1806,  and  having  died  there  on  Feb 
ruary  22,  1898. 

Twenty-five  years  ago,  when  I  was  on 
The  LaRue  County  Herald,  a  weekly  news 
paper  published  at  Hodgenville,  [Kentucky, 
the  town  of  my  birth  and  upbringing,  I 
found  much  pleasure  in  visiting  the  home 
of  Mr.  Gollaher,  and  drawing  from  him 
these  tales  of  the  days  when  he  and  Lin 
coln,  children  of  the  wilderness,  played  in 
the  woods,  and  along  Knob  Creek,  upon 
the  banks  of  which  the  boy  Austin  Gollaher 
lived  when  the  Lincolns  moved  from  Cave 
Spring  Farm  to  the  Knob  Creek  hills. 

Mr.  Gollaher  was  unschooled,  but  he  pos- 


540704 


PREFACE 

sessed  a  Keen  intellect,  and  talked  interest 
ingly  and  intelligently  of  his  and  Lincoln's 
childhood  in  LaRue  County.  In  answer  to 
my  questions  Mr.  Gollaher,  little  by  little, 
related  the  narratives  quite  free  from  inten 
tional  embellishment,  I  feel  sure. 

In  following  these  pages,  however,  the 
reader  is  asked  to  bear  in  mind  that  they  are 
leaves  from  the  loving  memory  of  an  old 
man.  Abraham  Lincoln  was,  in  the  recollec 
tion  of  Austin  Gollaher,  the  great  event ;  he 
was  at  once  playmate  and  prophet,  the  day's 
companion  and  the  man  for  the  ages.  Mr. 
Gollaher  saw  the  boy  through  the  splendor 
of  the  man's  later  years,  and  while  he  sought 
a  scrupulous  truth  to  fact — for  he  ever  made 
probity  his  watchword — it  would  have  been 
extraordinary,  if  not  impossible,  for  his  nar 
ration  of  early  youth  to  escape  the  coloring 
and  the  glamour  of  an  imperishable  name. 

It  is  undoubtedly  true  that  no  one,  except 
the  writer,  preserved  the  data  from  which 
this  series  of  stories  has  been  written.  I  did 
so  because  they  were  of  great  personal  in- 


PREFACE 

terest  to  me,  and  not  with  any  thought  at  the 
time  of  offering  them  to  the  public.  But 
since  every  word  about  Lincoln  has  become 
precious  I  feel  it  my  duty  and  my  pleasure 
to  give  to  the  world  these  simple  stories,  sim 
ply  told,  of  the  great  American's  birth,  in 
fancy  and  childhood.  They  can  hardly  fail 
to  interest  all  who  love  his  memory  and  the 
many  who  know  but  little  of  these  young 
years  in  LaRue  County. 

Mr.  Gollaher  contended  that  some  of  the 
historians  were  in  error  in  saying  that 
Thomas  Lincoln  and  his  family  moved  to 
Indiana  in  the  fall  of  1816;  he  said  the  Lin- 
?olns  did  not  leave  Kentucky  until  a  year 
later,  as  recorded  in  Mrs.  Gollaher's  diary, 
or  as  he  called  it,  "Mother's  book  of  things" ; 
that  he  and  his  father  went  with  the  Lin- 
coins  to  Middle  Creek,  a  small  stream,  now 
the  dividing  line  between  Hardin  and  La- 
Rue  Counties,  to  help  with  a  cow  which  was 
a  little  unruly,  and  that  the  journey  was  be 
gun  one  bright  morning  in  November,  1817. 

Mr.    Gollaher    associated    Lincoln    with 


PREFACE 

practically  all  of  his  memories  of  pioneer 
days  in  the  Knob  Creek  hills.  The  essentials 
of  the  stories  are  presented  as  he  gave  them 
to  me.  In  retelling  them  I  believed  it  per 
missible  to  go  back  more  than  one  hundred 
years  into  the  homes  of  the  pioneers — to  visit 
among  them — to  be  with  the  Lincolns,  the 
Gollahers,  the  Hodgens  and  others — to  go 
with  Abe  and  Austin  into  the  hills,  to  watch 
them  at  their  play,  to  listen  to  and  record 
their  conversations.  I  have,  therefore, 
dramatized  Mr.  Gollaher's  reminiscences  in 
order  to  reconstruct  with  more  realism  the 
life  of  the  period,  and  have  allowed  Abe  and 
Austin,  their  friends  and  neighbors  to  talk 
in  character  and  so,  naturally,  reveal  in 
anecdote  and  experience  the  early  life  of  the 
boy  who  was  to  become  one  of  the  world's 
greatest  figures. 

J.  R.  G. 
Hodgenville,  Kentucky. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I  AUSTIN  GOLLAHER 13 

II  LOOKING  BACKWARD 20 

III  THE  DELIVERANCE 26 

IV  GREAT  REJOICING 36 

V  A  WONDERFUL  CHILD 41 

VI  THE  BINDING  TIE        44 

VII  A  NEW  HOME 51 

VIII  THE  MIRACULOUS  ESCAPE 58 

IX  NEW  FRIENDS 68 

X  THE  HODGENS 77 

XI  THIRST  FOR  LEARNING 83 

XII  THE  PARSON  AND  THE  COONSKIN  CAP      .  96 

XIII  ABRAHAM  AND  THE  CHURCH     ....  107 

XIV  A  FRIENDLY  CONTEST 118 

XV  A  GOOD  TIME  UP  THERE 126 

XVI  THE  NICKNAME 132 

XVII  THE  EXPLORERS 140 

XVIII  THE  Fox  AND  THE  TRAP 149 

XIX  THE  GOAT  AND  THE  COAT 155 

XX  THE  RESCUE 165 

XXI  HONEY'S  OLD  MASTER 173 

XXII  ROBINSON  CRUSOE        181 

XXIII  SARAH'S  SWING 195 

XXIV  STEALING  TIME 200 

XXV  AUSTIN  AND  THE  COON 208 

XXVI  JUST  TURNED  AROUND 213 

XXVII  THE  GHOST 219 

XXVIII  THE  DISTRESS  SIGNAL                              -.  223 


CONTENTS— Continued 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XXIX  THE  KING'S  LITTLE  BOY 234 

XXX  Two  PRAYERS  JUST  ALIKE 241 

XXXI  TELL  THE  TRUTH 248 

XXXII  THE  RIGHT  TO  FIGHT 254 

XXXIII  ABE'S  DREAM     v 260 

XXXIV  OFF  THE  SHEEP'S  BACK    ......  265 

XXXV  THE  HUMAN  TREE 269 

XXXVI  WHERE  Is  INDIAN  ANNER 277 

XXXVII  A  FIGHT  AND  A  STRANGER 284 

XXXVIII  FOR  THE  BEST 290 

XXXIX  THE  LAST  OF  BILLY    .......  296 

XL  THE  END  OF  PLAYTIME 303 

XLI  THE  PARTING  OF  THE  WAYS  312 


THE  BOYHOOD  OF 
ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 


THE  BOYHOOD  OF 
ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 

CHAPTER  I 

AUSTIN  GOLLAHEB 

"GoD  has  been  mighty  good  to  me  all  of 
these  years,"  said  Mr.  Gollaher.  "He  has 
given  me  strength  and  health,  and  enough 
sense  to  keep  me  always  in  the  straight 
and  narrow  path.  In  the  closing  days  of 
my  life  I  am  happy ;  my  children  are  kind 
to  me,  and  so  are  my  friends  and  neigh 
bors,  and  I  have  lots  to  be  thankful  for. 
Why!"  he  said  seriously,  "even  now  my 
eyesight  is  pretty  good  and  I  can  read 
my  Bible  and  teach  my  Sunday-school 
class." 

For  thirty  years  he  was  a  deacon  in  a 
13 


14   THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

little  Baptist  church  which  nestled  among 
the  hills  near  his  home.  There  he  preached 
and  sang  and  taught  until  the  weight  of 
time  weakened  his  strong  body  and  forced 
him  to  the  seclusion  of  his  cabin  home. 

Mr.  Gollaher  loved  children,  and  was 
always  pleased  when  he  could  visit  a 
schoolhouse  and  tell  some  of  his  favorite 
stories  of  "Abe."  He  was  a  good  talker 
and,  while  his  language  was  not  entirely 
free  of  grammatical  errors,  what  he  said 
was  always  sensible  and  entertaining,  and 
his  advice  to  boys  and  girls  always  whole 
some.  The  children  returned  his  love, 
and  would  often  cling  to  him,  pat  his 
ruddy  cheeks  and  beg  him  to  tell  more 
stories  from  the  Bible,  or  about  his  boy 
friend,  "Abe." 

Mr.  Gollaher  was  a  stalwart  man,  and 
even  in  his  old  age  was  strong  and  ath 
letic.  He  was  six  feet  high,  broad-shoul 
dered  and  full  of  untiring  energy.  He 
greeted  stranger  and  friend  with  a  cordial 
hand-shake  and  never  failed  to  say:  "I 


AUSTIN  GOLLAHER  15 

hope  your  health  and  the  health  of  your 
family  is  good."  Particularly  did  he  ask 
after  the  health  of  the  people  of  the  neigh 
borhood.  If  he  found  illness  anywhere  he 
would  lose  little  time  in  going  to  the  bed 
side  of  the  afflicted.  He  knew  something 
of  medicine  and  was  glad  when  he  could 
contribute  to  the  comforts  of  the 
suffering. 

He  was  a  leader  in  his  community  and 
there  was  none  who  disliked  him.  As  he 
rode  his  mule  through  the  hills,  he  would 
often  break  into  song,  the  folks  along  the 
way  joining  with  him.  He  used  to  say  he 
had  the  biggest  band  of  singers  in  the 
world,  that  even  the  birds  belonged  to  his 
choir. 

Mr.  Gollaher  was  without  personal  am 
bition,  but  was  always  eager  to  assist  in 
any  project  for  the  upbuilding  of  the 
neighborhood.  He  was  one  of  the  leading 
spirits  and  speakers  in  meetings  called 
for  the  advancement  of  pioneer  interests. 
In  his  younger  days  he  was  a  fighter,  al- 


16   THE  BOYHOOD  OP  LINCOLN 

though,  not  quarrelsome,  but  after  he  was 
twenty-five  he  settled  into  peaceful  ways 
and  would  say,  laughingly,  that  all  the 
fights  of  his  youth  could  have  been 
avoided.  He  found  more  pleasure  in  fell 
ing  trees  to  build  cabins  than  he  would 
have  found  in  laying  corner-stones  for 
mansions — more  satisfying  pleasure  in 
the  hunt  than  he  would  have  found  in 
business  or  politics. 

"I  regret  that  I  neglected  to  well  edu 
cate  myself,''  he  said.  "Abe  always  tried 
to  get  me  to  learn  from  the  books,  but  I 
couldn't  at  that  time  see  the  need  of  it. 
Why,  do  you  know,"  he  exclaimed,  "that 
had  I  been  well  educated  I  would  have 
been  Abe 's  law  partner  ?  And  then,  when 
he  became  president,  he  would  have  ap 
pointed  me  to  a  judgeship.  I  learned  to 
read  and  write  and  figure  pretty  well,  be 
cause  Abe  begged  me  to,  and  I  have  been 
glad  of  it  always,  because  I  was  able  to 
read  of  the  greatness  of  my  boyhood 
companion. 


AUSTIN  GOLLAHER  17 

"The  fact  is,"  continued  Mr.  Gollaher, 
"I  studied  hard  for  a  while,  and  learned 
fast,  but  I  didn't  keep  at  it;  there  were 
too  many  attractions  in  the  hills,  and  I 
would  neglect  my  studies  any  time  to  go 
hunting.  In  those  days  I  believed  a  coon- 
skin  more  valuable  than  a  book,  and  every 
time  my  dog  barked,  I  went  to  the  woods. 
I  spent  lots  of  my  time  in  taking  coons 
from  the  hollow  trees.  But  notwithstand 
ing  I  whiled  away  a  great  many  hours 
loafing  with  my  dog  I  was  better  educated 
than  most  of  the  folks  in  our  community ; 
in  fact,  I  was  considered  such  a  smart  fel 
low  that  they  put  me  to  teaching  school 
when  I  was  not  much  more  than  a  young 
ster.  I  taught  over  there  where  the 
Wilkins  post-office  now  stands,  and  was 
fairly  successful,  though  largely  because 
Mrs.  Sarah  Hodgen  helped  me  with  many 
little  things  I  did  not  understand.  I 
taught  two  terms,  and  then  went  back  to 
the  woods  with  my  dog  and  my  gun." 

While  no  record  of  it  can  be  found,  it  is 


18   THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

said  that  at  one  time  Mr.  Gollaher  was  a 
justice  of  the  peace  in  LaRue  County,  and 
I  remember  that  some  of  the  people  in  his 
neighborhood  called  him  "  Judge,"  a  title 
he  did  not  like.  "The  office  is  small,"  he 
would  say,  "and  the  title  is  big,  and  the 
misfit  is  bad.  It  reminds  me  of  a  small 
girl  diked  out  in  her  mother's  dress,1' 

On  one  occasion  he  was  trying  two 
young  boys  for  disturbing  public  worship. 
The  evidence  showed  that  the  culprits  had 
thrown  rocks  against  the  church  house 
during  service.  Mr.  Gollaher  heard  the 
testimony,  and  was  preparing  to  render 
his  decision  when  the  mother  of  one  of  the 
boys  arose  and  addressed  the  court, 
saying: 

"Jedge,  ef  you'll  let  the  boys  go  this 
time  we  will  give  them  a  good  whuppin'.  " 

"I  can't  do  that,"  replied  Mr.  Golla 
her;  "I  must  sentence  these  youngsters." 
And  he  commanded  the  boys  and  their 
mothers  to  stand  up.  "The  offense  is  a 
serious  one,"  he  said,  "one  for  which  no 


AUSTIN  GOLLAHER  19 

excuse  can  be  offered,  except  that  these 
boys  have  not  been  properly  brought  up, 
that  they  have  had  no  religious  training. 
I  therefore  sentence  the  prisoners  at  the 
bar,  together  with  their  mothers,  to  six 
months " 

He  paused  and  both  women  began  to 
weep,  pleading : 

"Per  Gawd's  sake  don't  do  that,  Jedge 
Gollaher!" 

" Order  in  the  court!"  commanded  the 
judge.  "As  I  was  saying,  I  now  sentence 
the  prisoners  and  their  mothers  to  six 
months'  attendance  at  all  services  in  the 
church  during  that  period.  They  will  oc 
cupy  the  bench  directly  in  front  of  the 
pulpit — the  Mourners '  Bench — w  here 
they  will  give  strict  attention  to  the  teach 
ing  of  the  Bible." 


CHAPTER  II 

LOOKING  BACKWAKD 

WHEN  Mr.  Gollaher  talked  of  "Abe" 
he  glowed  with  enthusiasm.  He  believed 
implicitly  that  God  gave  Lincoln  to  the 
world,  and  watched  over  him  and  guided 
him  that  He  might  use  him  as  an  instru 
ment  to  do  a  great  work.  He  recalled  in 
stances  in  the  child  life  of  Lincoln  that  he 
believed  miraculous — things  which  could 
not  have  occurred  had  not  God's  guiding 
hand  been  present. 

He  said  Abe  was  smarter  than  many  of 
the  older  people  and  that  he  was  always 
doing  or  saying  something  that  astonished 
them ;  that  his  solemn  wit  was  refreshing 
to  those  who  understood  it,  his  philosophy 
and  wisdom  frequently  beyond  belief. 

20 


LOOKING  BACKWARD:      21 

"Big,"  he  said,  raising  his  hands  above 
his  head,  "is  not  the  right  word  to  de 
scribe  Abe  either  in  mind  or  body.  I'll 
tell  you  that  boy  towered !  He  was  nearly 
a  head  taller  than  I,  yet  I  was  three 
years  older;  and  when  it  came  to  being 
smart  he  was  way  yonder  ahead  of  me. 
God  did  it ;  God  made  him  big  in  body  and 
mind  so  that  he  could  work  hard  and 
never  tire — so  that  he  would  not  give  up 
until  the  job  was  finished." 

In  describing  Abe's  appearance,  Mr. 
Gollaher  said:  "His  legs  were  long,  his 
arms  were  long,  his  ears  were  long  and 
his  head  was  long.  He  was  the  longest 
boy  in  the  world.  He  could  walk  farther, 
throw  farther  and  hear  farther  than  any 
other  boy.  His  eyes  were  as  mild  as  the 
moon,  but  'pon  my  word,  he  could  see 
through  these  hills  here,"  and  he  waved 
his  hand  toward  a  chain  of  hills  that  al 
most  circled  his  home. 

"But  I  felt  mighty  hard  toward  Abe 
once  upon  a  time,  just  for  a  little  while," 


22  THE  BOYHOOD  OP  LINCOLN     , 

j 

said  Mr.  Gollaher,  a  smile  playing  upon 
Ms  tobacco-stained  lips.  "You  see,  I 
never  heard  a  word  from  him  until  after 
he  was  elected  president,  and  I  thought  he 
had  entirely  forgotten  me — I  thought 
maybe  he  thought  I  was  too  common  for 
him  to  remember  after  he  became  so  great. 
But  I  was  mistaken,  and  I  now  believe 
Abe  thought  of  me  often,  and  loved  me 
just  like  he  did  when  we  were  inseparable 
playmates  upon  the  hills  and  in  the  hol 
lows  along  Knob  Creek. 

"One  time,"  he  continued,  "when  Doc 
tor  Jesse  Kodman,  who  lived  and  died  at 
Hodgenville,  was  in  Washington,  he  saw 
Abe,  and  Abe  asked  all  about  me,  and  sent 
word  to  me  that  he  would  pay  my  ex 
penses  if  I  would  come  to  Washington  to 
see  him.  But  I  didn't  go,  because  I  was 
always  afraid  to  ride  on  a  train  of  cars. 
Abe  also  told  Doctor  Eodman  that  shortly 
after  he  moved  to  Indiana  he  learned  how 
to  read  and  write  pretty  well;  that  he 
wrote  two  letters  to  me  and  gave  them  to 


LOOKING  BACKWARD         23 

passers-by  coming  this  way,  and  asked 
that  they  hand  them  along  to  others  until 
they  should  finally  reach  me.  But  I  never 
got  them.  Abe  wrote  another  letter  to  me 
from  somewhere  in  Illinois,  but  I  didn't 
get  that  either.  He  told  Doctor  Rodman 
that  he  thought  maybe  I  had  died,  or  that 
we  had  all  moved  away.  Why,"  the  old 
man  said  seriously,  "I'd  give  this  whole 
farm  for  those  letters  right  now. 

"Abe  talked  a  long  time  to  Doctor  Rod 
man/'  continued  Mr.  Gollaher,  "and  they 
ate  dinner  together  there  in  the  White 
House,  He  asked  all  about  me,  and  told 
the  doctor  about  the  time  I  pulled  him  out 
of  Knob  Creek  with  a  fishing  pole  and 
saved  him  from  drowning,  and  also  about 
his  billy-goat  that  stuck  a  stob  in  its  belly 
and  was  killed.  He  spoke  'freely  of  every 
body  he  used  to  know  here,  and  tears  came 
into  his  eyes,  Doctor  Rodman  said,  as  he 
recalled  old  Mrs.  Sarah  Hodgen,  the 
widow  of  Robert,  the  owner  of  the  old 
Hodgen  Mill  over  there  at  Hodgenville. 


24   THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

tt 

She  and  two  of  her  sons,  John  and  Isaac, 
were  among  the  best  friends  Abe  ever  had 
in  the  world.  As  between  the  I&Tdgen 
boys  Abe  loved  John  the  most,  because 
John  ran  the  mill,  where  Abe  used  to  play. 
John  Hodgen  thought  Abe  was  a  wonder 
ful  youngster,  and  he  did  lots  of  nice 
things  for  him. 

"Abe  also  asked  about  my  father  and 
mother  and  many  friends  who  had  passed 
to  the  other  world.  He  loved  my  father 
and  mother  because  they  were  always 
good  to  him.  Lots  and  lots  of  times 
mother  used  to  hug  both  Abe  and  me  to 
her  breast  and  tell  us  Bible  stories. 

"He  told  Doctor  Rodman  that  he  had 
known  few  sadder  days  than  the  day  when 
he  said  good-by  to  me  and  crossed  Middle 
Creek  on  his  way  with  his  parents  to  Indi 
ana.  He  said  he  was  coming  over  here 
some  of  these  days  to  see  what  was  left  of 
us ;  but  he  never  came.  I  reckon  it  would 
have  made  him  feel  bad  to  have  seen  how 
things  have  changed — to  have  seen  the 


LOOKING  BACKWARD         25 

graves  of  the  people  who  were  so  good  to 
him.  when  he  was  a  boy.  Abe  was  always 
sad,  anyhow,  and  seemed  lijse Jie  was  wor 
ried  about  something;  every  day  of  his 
child  and  boy  life  here  he  seemed  that 
way,  and  I  guess  he  never  outgrew  it. 

"The  story  of  the  birth  of  Abe,  as  I 
Meard  it  from  my  mother  and  father,  im 
pressed  me  so  much,"  said  Mr.  Grollaher, 
"that  I  have  dreaded  winter  ever  since. 
To  this  day,  when  I  hear  cold  winds  howl 
ing  my  mind  goes  back  to  that  terrible 
blizzard  on  the  morning  of  February  12, 
1809,  and  I  see  old  Mr.  Isom  Enlow  over 
there  near  the  Cave  Spring  Farm,  stum 
bling  and  falling  as  he  plows  through  the 
snow — lost  in  the  gray  woods,  in  the  blind 
ing  storm.  And  then  I  see  him  as  he  falls 
over  the  cliff  and  struggles  up  the  hill  to 
the  Lincoln  cabin,  where  he  found  Mrs. 
Lincoln  and  little  Sarah  and  the  baby, 
Abe,  half  starved  and  almost  frozen. 


CHAPTER  III 

THE  DELIVERANCE 

THE  winter  of  1809  was  a  severe  one.  It 
came  a  little  late,  but  it  came  suddenly, 
with  its  blighting  winds,  its  ice  and  snow 
and  low-hanging  clouds,  and  it  dealt  deso 
lation  to  field  and  forest  in  Kentucky. 
Those  pioneers  who  lazily  lounged  in  the 
sunshine  of  November  and  December, 
failing  to  prepare  for  the  winter,  were 
hopelessly  caught  in  the  grip  of  that 
mighty  blizzard.  Cattle  and  game  which 
did  not  find  shelter  were  driven  to  the 
slaughter-pens  of  the  storm*  Even  the 
well-to-do  suffered  unusual  inconve 
niences  and  hardships,  and  there  was  much 
sickness  and  many  deaths  among  the  fam 
ilies  of  the  pioneers  in  the  remoter  wilds. 

28 


THE  DELIVERANCE  27 

The  cold  came  in  January  and  con 
tinued  through  February,  with  only  brief 
intervals  of  mild  weather.  On  February 
11, 1809,  Isom  Enlow,  a  brawny  and  well- 
to-do  backwoodsman,  taking  advantage  of 
a  likely  morning — a  lull  in  the  storm — 
went  to  visit  a  neighbor  who  lived  six  or 
seven  miles  from  the  Enlow  home  in  the 
South  Fork  River  section  of  LaRue 
County.  Early  in  the  afternoon,  while 
Mr.  Enlow  was  yet  in  the  home  of  his 
neighbor,  the  blizzard  renewed  its  attack, 
continuing  bitterly  into  the  night,  so  that 
he  found  it  necessary  to  remain  until  the 
morning  of  the  twelfth,  as  neither  man 
nor  beast  could  withstand  the  onslaught 
of  the  storm.  But  on  the  morning  he  set 
out  afoot,  in  spite  of  protests,  for  he  was 
anxious  to  quiet  the  fears  of  his  family 
who  had  expected  him  the  day  before. 
He  threw  his  strong  body  against  the 
wind  and  trudged  along,  fighting  his  way 
inch  by  inch  over  a  trail  deeply  hidden 
and  treacherous. 


28   THE  BOYHOOD  OP  LINCOLN 

The  storm,  after  a  brief  lull,  was  soon 
again  at  its  height,  the  stiff  wind  blowing 
the  dry  snow  from  the  hills,  filling  the 
hollows  and  drifting  deep  along  the  fields. 
Mr.  Enlow  traveled  as  one  under  a  mighty 
load ;  his  finger-tips  frozen,  his  feet  clum 
sily  numb.  Lashed  by  the  wind  and  snow, 
his  eyes  were  burned  and  his  sight  was  so 
dimmed  that  the  big  trees  were  as  dancing 
shadows;  confusion  was  rioting  in  his 
brain,  and  his  strong  heart  was  perilously 
weak.  He  must  find  shelter  quickly  or 
perish.  His  strength  was  waning  rapidly, 
and  he  felt  that  numbness  creeping  into 
his  body  which  frequently  produces  indif 
ference — the  indifference  that  causes  one 
to  lie  down,  smiling,  into  the  arms  of 
death. 

But  to  such  a  man  there  was  no  thought 
of  surrender;  he  was  a  born  fighter;  his 
was  the  red  blood  of  the  frontiersman.  It 
might  have  been  easier,  even  more  pleas 
ant,  to  have  given  up  the  fight  and  died, 
but  the  predominating  desire  in  his  heart 


THE  DELIVERANCE  29 

was  to  outwit  the  storm  and  to  escape  the 
chagrin  of  defeat.  There  were  friendly 
cliffs  and  caves  in  the  neighborhood,  but 
in  the  storm's  wild  confusion  the  half- 
conscious  man  could  not  locate  them.  Yet 
he  knew  that  he  must  find  a  refuge  where 
he  could  rest  for  a  few  moments  or  he 
would  lose  the  battle.  At  last  he  crawled 
under  a  heavy  clump  of  bushes,  roofed 
with  snow  and  ice. 

There,  not  more  than  two  miles  from 
the  home  of  the  friend  whose  hearthstone 
he  had  left  an  hour  before,  the  pioneer 
was  lost  in  a  neighborhood  where,  under 
ordinary  conditions,  he  would  have 
known  well  every  foot  of  soil,  where  even 
the  trees  would  have  served  him  as  guide- 
posts.  But  there  was  no  fright  in  the 
stout  heart  of  Isom  Enlow.  He  peered 
through  the  lattice  of  ice,  hoping  to  find 
a  familiar  landmark  that  would  enable 
him  to  get  his  bearings  and  to  resume  his 
journey.  But  his  beclouded  eyes  saw 
nothing  save  the  whirling  mists.  He 


30   THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

rubbed  his  limbs  and  beat  himself  with  his 
big  frozen  hands  to  warm  his  blood — to 
make  ready  for  another  round  with  the 
storm — then,  pulling  himself  to  his  feet, 
he  moved  slowly  on  among  the  snowclad 
trees. 

Somewhere  in  that  vicinity,  Thomas 
Lincoln  had  built  a  cabin  upon  a  hill — a 
one-room  cabin  of  small  logs.  Isom  En- 
low  had  helped  to  build  it,  but  now  every 
thing  was  strange  to  him.  He  traveled  as 
one  in  a  dense  fog.  Those  great  sheets  of 
snow  were  waving  around  him  and  above 
him.  Suddenly,  without  warning,  the 
stalwart  woodsman  plunged  down  a  preci 
pice  ten  feet  high  and  rolled  to  the  snow- 
covered  rocks  below.  Stunned  and  bewil 
dered,  he  clamored  to  his  feet.  Then 
smiled  hopefully,  for  he  had  fallen  over 
the  cliff  sheltering  the  cave-spring  at  the 
foot  of  the  steep  hill  upon  which  Thomas 
Lincoln  had  built  his  cabin. 

With  renewed  energy,  Mr.  Enlow  scram 
bled  up  the  hill  and  pushed  his  way,  unin- 


THE  DELIVERANCE  31 

vited,  into  the  cabin.  It  was  miserably 
desolate  and  cold.  He  staggered  to  the 
fireplace  to  find  only  a  few  smoldering 
coals  buried  in  the  ashes.  There  came  a 
faint  cry  from  the  corner  of  the  room. 
Upon  a  bedstead,  made  of  saplings  on 
which  was  a  tick  of  straw,  lay  a  woman 
and  a  little  girl,  both  too  weak  from  cold 
and  hunger  and  illness  to  speak  except  in 
the  faintest  whisperings. 

"Oh,  I  am  so  ill,  and  I  am  afraid  my 
baby  is  dead,"  the  woman  said  in  a  sob 
bing  whimper.  ' '  Won 't  you  do  something 
for  us?"  she  begged. 

Rubbing  his  eyes  and  drawing  closer  to 
the  bed,  Mr.  Enlow  saw  the  little  girl; 
then  he  said,  "Mrs.  Lincoln,  this  is  Isom 
Enlow;  don't  you  recognize  me?  The  lit 
tle  girl  is  alive  and  will  soon  be  all  right." 

"Not  the  little  girl,  Mr.  Enlow,"  an 
swered  the  faint  quivering  voice ;  "I  have 
a  baby,  a  boy,  born  early  this  morning. 
Oh,  Mr.  Enlow,  do  something  for  him," 
she  pleaded. 


32   THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

The  backwoodsman  raised  the  scant 
covering  and  there  lay  an  infant,  blue 
from  cold,  with  nothing  over  it  but  the 
light  bed-clothes.  The  little  drawn  face 
had  upon  it  the  imprint  of  death,  and  Mr. 
Enlow  believed  he  had  come  too  late. 

There  was  not  a  piece  of  wood  in  the 
cabin,  nothing  with  which  to  rekindle  the 
fire.  Hurriedly  he  seized  an  ax  and  went 
again  into  the  storm.  Beating  the  snow 
and  ice  from  limbs  and  twigs,  he  broke 
them  into  pieces,  and  then,  realizing  how 
precious  the  moments  were,  he  ran  back 
into  the  cabin  with  barely  enough  kin 
dling  to  restart  the  fast  dying  embers.  Out 
and  back  he  went  again  and  again  until 
the  fire  finally  leaped  high  and  bright  in 
the  stick-chimney.  Then  Mr,  Enlow 
warmed  the  bed-clothing  and  wrapped  it 
about  the  mother  and  her  baby. 

He  rubbed  them  gently  with  his  rough 
hands  and  soothed  Mrs.  Lincoln  with 
promises  that  he  would  soon  make  them 
more  comfortable.  Continuing  to  apply 


THE  DELIVERANCE  33 

the  warm  covering,  the  backwoodsman 
soon  was  rewarded  with  a  faint  whimper 
from  the  infant  and  a  glance  of  gratitude 
from  the  mother.  Enlow  searched  every 
where  in  the  cabin  for  a  morsel  of  food, 
but  the  rough  shelves  were  as  bare  as  the 
walls.  He  thought  of  game  in  the  fields 
and  woods,  but  everything  had  sought 
shelter,  and  besides  it  would  be  sheer  folly 
to  go  out  into  the  storm  again. 

But  something  must  be  done  to  get  food 
for  the  mother  and  her  children.  He  re 
membered  that  in  his  pocket  was  a  small 
earthen  jar  of  wild  turkey  grease  which 
he  used  to  clean  the  rifles  of  his  gun.  In 
that  grease  there  was  nourishment,  per 
haps  ;  at  least  he  must  try  it  in  this  dire 
emergency.  Adding  some  boiling  water, 
Mr.  Enlow  made  what  he  called  soup,  and 
after  much  persuasion  Mrs.  Lincoln 
sipped  some  of  the  unpleasant  concoction. 
Then  he  dipped  a  string  into  the  melted 
grease  and  put  one  end  of  it  into  the 
mouth  of  the  infant. 


34   THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

Never  did  physician  watch  more  closely 
at  the  bedside  of  his  patient  than  did  Isom 
Enlow  watch  for  sign  of  life  on  that  win 
try  twelfth  of  February  in  the  year  1809. 

The  little  girl,  Sarah  Lincoln,  sipped 
the  hot  greasy  water,  and  insisted  in  her 
childish  way  that  her  mother  drink  more 
of  the  bitter  stuff.  When  Isom  EnlowT 
took  the  cup  from  the  hand  of  the  little 
girl  and  said  to  Mrs.  Lincoln  " Drink," 
she  obeyed  him  mechanically  and  without 
thought  of  herself.  Her  heart  and  her 
hope  were  in  the  baby — the  boy — that 
"long,  eel-like  string  of  famished  flesh," 
as  Austin  Gollaher  put  it,  lying  there  by 
her  side  upon  the  tick  of  straw.  Almost 
too  weak  to  turn  her  throbbing  head,  she 
watched  for  further  signs  of  life  in  the  in 
fant  and  when  she  saw  its  purple  lips 
tighten  upon  the  grease-soaked  string, 
happy  tears  came  into  her  eyes  and  she 
said,  "The  child  will  live." 

The  improvement  in  the  baby  was  as 
tonic  to  Mrs.  Lincoln ;  she  immediately  be- 


THE  DELIVERANCE  35 

came  brighter  and  stronger,  ready  to  wage 
the  winning  fight — that  fight  which  gave 
to  America  its  great  commoner — the  em 
bodiment  of  the  promise  that  all  are  cre 
ated  equal  and  that  there  shall  be  neither 
master  nor  bond-servant. 

But  food  must  be  found  somewhere; 
the  mother  and  her  children  must  have 
nourishment.  So  Enlow  told  Mrs.  Lin 
coln  he  was  going  to  the  nearest  neigh 
bor's,  and  that  he  would  return  during  the 
day  with  food  and  help.  Then  with  a  word 
of  cheer,  and  a  wave  of  the  hand,  he 
stooped  through  the  low  door  of  the  cabin 
out  into  the  woods  again  to  face  the  storm. 


CHAPTER  IV 

GREAT  REJOICING 

THE  storm  had  abated  somewhat,  but 
the  skies  were  still  oppressively  gray  and 
the  wind  still  strong  enough  to  break  the 
weakest  twigs  and  limbs  and  scatter  them 
over  the  fields  and  through  the  forests. 
Isom  Enlow  stood  upon  the  high  hill  in 
front  of  the  cabin,  his  heavy  coat  of  skins 
pulled  tightly  about  him.  He  was  unde 
cided.  Should  he  go  to  Gabriel  Kirkpat- 
rick's,  two  miles  to  the  west,  or  to  the 
home  of  Jimmie  McDougal,  a  good  two 
and  a  half  miles  to  the  south,  or  his  own 
home  some  four  miles  to  the  east  ?  Believ 
ing  it  his  duty  to  let  his  family  know  that 
he  had  safely  escaped  the  blizzard,  he 
turned  his  face  eastward. 
36 


GREAT  REJOICING  37 

His  steps  were  slow,  but  there  was  de 
termination  in  his  heart  and  soul.  His 
mission  was  one  of  love  and  charity — 
those  two  beautiful  qualities  so  deeply 
rooted  in  pioneer  hearts — and  if  success 
ful  three  lives  would  be  saved.  If  unsuc 
cessful,  if  he  should  perish  out  there  in 

the  woods,  it  would  mean But  at  the 

thought  his  muscles  grew  tense,  his  head 
lifted,  determination  blazed  on  his  red 
rough  face,  and  he  trudged  forth  along 
the  pathless  waste. 

He  had  not  gone  far  when  his  keen  ears, 
deeply  hidden  beneath  the  cape-like  collar 
of  his  fur  coat,  caught  the  faint  sound  of 
crunching  snow.  His  grip  tightened  on 
his  rifle  and  he  stood  at  attention  behind 
a  tree,  ready  to  send  a  bullet  through  the 
heart  of  a  deer.  But  there  upon  the  brow 
of  a  near-by  hill,  picking  their  way  with 
precision,  were  a  man  and  a  woman  and  a 
mule.  Their  heads  were  bowed  so  that 
they  did  not  see  Mr.  Enlow,  who  shouted 
to  attract  them. 


38   THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

"Gollaher!  Oh,  Gollaher!"  excitedly 
called  the  pioneer.  "The  Jehovah  sent 
you ;  I  am  glad ;  the  Lord  has  been  good 
to  me  this  day!"  And  upon  his  knees,  a 
mile  from  the  Lincoln  cabin,  there  among 
the  snow-drifts,  Isom  Enlow  thanked  God 
for  His  merciful  goodness. 

Mrs.  Gollaher  knew  of  the  expected 
confinement  of  Mrs.  Lincoln,  and  not 
withstanding  the  blizzard  she  and  her 
husband  had  struggled  to  reach  the  little 
cabin  in  time.  Strapped  to  the  back  of 
the  mule  were  sacks  containing  corn-meal 
and  bacon,  dried  apples  and  peaches, 
roots  of  sassafras  bushes  for  tea,  butter 
and  eggs  and  bed-clothing.  Following  the 
trail  Mr.  Enlow  had  made,  the  three 
friends  were  soon  spreading  good  cheer 
before  a  blazing  wood  fire  in  Thomas  Lin 
coln  's  cabin  home. 

While  Enlow  and  Gollaher  chopped 
wood  in  the  forest  and  piled  it  high  within 
easy  reach  of  the  house,  Mrs.  Gollaher,  af 
ter  Mrs.  Lincoln  and  Sarah  were  made 


GREAT  REJOICING  39 

comfortable,  wrapped  the  new  baby  in  a 
blanket  of  wool  and  held  it  close  to  her 
warm  motherly  bosom  until  a  whimper, 
a  faint  wail,  assured  her  that  all  present 
danger  was  past.  Then  there  was  great 
rejoicing  in  the  rude  little  home  among 
the  trees,  and  Isom  Enlow,  his  long  hair 
falling  back  from  his  high  forehead,  lifted 
his  hands  to  the  very  roof  of  the  cabin  and 
said,  "I  thank  thee,  Lord,  for  the  strength 
thou  gave  to  me  this  day."  Then  to  Mrs. 
Lincoln:  "Name  the  child  'Abraham' 
after  my  son,  of  whom  I  am  very  fond." 

"I  will  call  him  Abraham,  for  that 
too  was  his  grandfather's  name,"  she  re 
plied,  a  happy  smile  of  gratitude  upon  her 
face. 


Note. — There  is  a  tradition  that  Thomas  Lincoln, 
on  the  morning  of  the  birth  of  his  son,  Abraham,  in 
going  across  the  fields  for  a  mid-wife,  met  Abraham 
Enlow  (a  son  of  Isom  Enlow)  riding  a  horse,  and  that 
he  (Lincoln)  borrowed  the  horse  from  young  Enlow 
and  rode  it  to  the  home  of  "old  Aunt  Peggy  Walters," 
who,  the  tradition  further  says,  ministered  to  Mrs.  Lin 
coln.  But  Mr.  Gollaher  contended  that  this  tradition  is 
in  error;  that  Mr.  Lincoln  was  not  at  home  when  Abra 
ham  was  born,  and  that  he  did  not  reach  home  until 
the  following  day;  that  three  or  four  days  before  the 
birth  of  the  son,  he  had  gone  to  Elizabethtown,  a  dis 
tance  of  some  fifteen  miles  from  his  home,  to  attend  to 


40   THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 


an  important  business  matter;  that  he  expected  to  re 
turn  the  following  day,  but  that  neither  man  nor  beast 
could  travel  in  that  fearful  blizzard  and  he  was  forced 
to  remain  away  until  weather  conditions  improved; 
that  upon  his  return  the  following  day  he  was  sorely 
grieved  that  his  wife  had  given  birth  to  their  son  under 
such  distressing  circumstances,  and  that  in  tears,  he 
knelt  by  the  bed  of  his  wife  and  begged  the  forgiveness 
of  his  "beautiful  Nancy,"  as  he  always  called  her;  that 
in  the  early  afternoon  of  the  following  day  Mr.  Lincoln 
went  to  the  home  of  a  Mrs.  Keith,  a  mid-wife,  riding 
a  horse  which  he  borrowed  from  Abraham  Enlow,  who 
wa's  on  his  way  to  the  Hodgen  Mill  with  a  turn  of  corn, 
and  that  the  Enlow  boy  remained  in  the  Lincoln  cabin 
until  Mr.  Lincoln  returned  with  the  old  woman,  who 
relieved  Mrs.  Gollaher. 

Peggy  Walters  was  buried  in  th©  old  South  Ford 
burying-ground,  near  Cave  Spring  or  Lincoln  Farm.  A 
crude  stone  on  her  grave  shows  that  she  was  born  in 
1791,  therefore  she  was  but  eighteen  years  old  when 
Abraham  Lincoln  was  born.  At  that  age  she  could 
hardly  have  been  a  mid-wife. 


CHAPTER  V 

A  WONDERFUL  CHILD 

THE  stars  came  out  that  night,  and  the 
pioneers  heard  the  breaking  of  the 
crusted  snow  beneath  the  feet  of  stirring 
animals  as  they  sought  food  in  the  valleys 
and  on  the  hills. 

Under  these  frightful  conditions,  Abra 
ham  Lincoln  came  into  the  world.  On 
the  winds  of  a  blizzard  he  came — across 
the  battle-fields  of  ice  and  snow,  in  the 
roar  of  the  hurricane — frozen  and 
starved.  And  there  beneath  a  cabin  roof, 
through  which  his  mother  saw  the  morn 
ing  stars  among  the  shifting  clouds,  he 
found  life  and  made  of  it  a  wonderful  and 
a  beautiful  thing. 

After  weeks  of  nursing,  the  mother  and 
41 


42    THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

the  boy  Abraham  were  carried  in  the 
arms  of  Thomas  Lincoln  out  into  the  sun 
shine  ;  and  there  upon  the  hillside,  above 
the  crystal  water  of  the  cave-spring,  they 
breathed  deep  of  the  healing  spring  air 
and  waxed  strong.  The  child  grew  rap 
idly,  so  rapidly  that  parents  and  neigh 
bors  were  astonished.  Jimmie  McDougal 
said:  "If  the  Cave  Spring  Farm  could 
grow  Indian  corn  like  it's  growing  that 
baby,  Thomas  Lincoln  would  raise  such  a 
crop  that  he  wouldn't  know  what  to  do 
with  it" 

Abraham's  face  seemed  stolid  at  times, 
yet  there  was  always  an  illuminating  lit 
tle  twinkle,  a  forerunner  of  the  humor  to 
come.  A  wonderful  child  the  pioneers 
thought  him,  and  none  who  ever  saw  him 
even  while  he  was  yet  toddling,  forgot  him 
because  of  his  size  and  his  attractive 
strangeness.  In  his  babyhood,  as  later,  he 
obeyed  his  father  and  mother  implicitly. 
And  his  love  for  his  mother  and  her  "fool 
ishness"  over  little  Abe  were  items  of 


at  WONDERFUL  CHILD        43 

neighborhood  gossip.  Some  said  that  God 
came  down  to  the  world  that  February 
morning  and  went  with  Isom  Enlow  to 
that  hill  where  to-day  is  enshrined  behind 
polished  marble  those  rough  logs  which 
sheltered  the  great  mother  when  she  gave 
to  the  world  her  immortal  son. 

"  Somebody  asked  why  God  did  not 
quiet  the  storm,"  said  Mr.  Gollaher,  "but 
the  folks  replied  by  saying,  'The  myster 
ies  of  God  can  not  be  understood,  and  we 
shall  not  try  to  understand  them/  It  was 
just  the  Master's  way  of  doing  things," 
he  continued.  "I  reckon  He  wanted  to 
give  to  the  world  an  example  of  what  a 
baby  born  under  such  conditions  could  do 
for  the  people.  Had  Abe  been  born  some 
where  in  a  big  fine  house,  it  might  have 
been  lots  harder  for  God  to  have  kept  self 
ishness  out  of  his  heart." 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE  BINDING  TIE 

OVER  a  century  ago  somebody  blazed  a 
trail  from  the  Knob  Creek  hills  to  the 
south  fork  of  Nolynn  River,  a  distance  of 
five  miles  as  the  crow  flies.  The  path 
broadened  as  it  was  traveled  by  the  set 
tlers  until  it  became  a  small  road  over 
which  a  horse  could  jog  along  with  ease, 
but  it  was  used  mostly  as  a  footpath, 
branching  off  here  and  there  like  the 
limbs  of  a  tree,  leading  here  and  there  to 
the  pioneer  homes  of  that  large  section  of 
country. 

Along  this  path  some  time  during  the 
summer  of  1812,  Mrs.  Gollaher,  the  wife 
of  Thomas  Gollaher,  carefully  made  her 
way  westward.  Tall  and  attractive,  vig- 

44 


THE  BINDING  TIE  45 

orous  physically  and  mentally,  she  was  a 
leader  among  the  women  of  her  day  and 
beloved  because  of  her  universal  good 
ness.  Under  her  strong  arm  Mrs.  Golla- 
her  carried  a  rifle,  and  from  her  rawhide 
belt  swung  a  knife  and  an  ax,  while  across 
the  young  shoulders  of  her  son,  Austin, 
who  followed  her  that  summer  morning,  a 
rifle  rested.  They  were  prepared  to  de 
fend  themselves  against  the  possible  at 
tack  of  some  wild  animal  as  they  made 
their  way  to  the  Cave  Spring  Farm,  the 
home  of  the  Lincolns. 

It  \vas  one  of  the  poorest  farms  in  that 
whole  section  of  wild  country;  but  from 
the  spring  in  the  cave  flowed  a  pure  cold 
water,  and  it  was  this  that  attracted 
Thomas  Lincoln  to  the  place.  "When  his 
friends  tried  to  persuade  him  to  move  to 
a  community  more  settled,  or  to  a  farm 
more  fertile,  he  would  always  answer  by 
saying  he  could  not  leave  the  "good  water 
on  the  bad  farm."  Kich  soil  meant  little 
to  Mr.  Lincoln ;  he  was  not  a  farmer,  and 


46   THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

the  cultivating  and  growing  of  crops  were 
of  small  interest  to  Mm.  He  loved  the 
damp  gray  woods ;  and  the  bark  of  the  red 
fox  was  more  pleasing  to  him  than  the 
rustle  of  growing  corn. 

"There's  a  gobbler "  but  before  the 

mother  could  complete  the  sentence,  Aus 
tin's  rifle  cracked,  and  a  big  fat  turkey 
gobbler  rolled  over  the  cliff  with  a  bullet 
hole  through  its  breast.  Mrs.  Gollaher 
did  not  comment  on  the  marksmanship  of 
lit  r  son,  since  she  had  seen  him  do  the 
Bame  thing  many  times  before.  That  day 
they  had  turkey  for  dinner  in  the  Lincoln 
cabin,  and  that  day  Austin  Gollaher,  aged 
six,  and  Abraham  Lincoln,  aged  three,  be 
came  friends. 

"Austin  has  brought  Abraham  a  tur 
key,  ' '  said  Mrs.  Gollaher.  ' '  Shall  we  have 
it  for  dinner?"  Then  back  of  the  cabin 
they  kindled  a  fire,  boiled  the  water  and 
picked  the  feathers  from  the  big  bird. 
Mrs.  Gollaher  gave  the  wings  to  Sarah 
Lincoln,  and  the  claws  to  Abraham  and 


tl 


THE  BINDING  TIE  47 

Austin,  saying:  " Sarah  can  fan  her 
sweetheart  with  the  wings  and  Abraham 
and  Austin  can  use  the  claws  to  scratch 
the  devil's  eyes  out  if  he  ever  comes  about 
them." 

"I  had,  of  course,  seen  Abe  many  times 
before  this  visit,  both  in  his  home  and 
mine,"  said  Mr.  Gollaher,  the  man,  "but 
there  had  been  something  so  strange  about 
him  that  I  had  paid  little  attention  to  him. 
However,  upon  this  occasion,  something 
new  developed  in  him — something  that 
made  me  feel  different  toward  him — and 
I  loved  him.  I  wanted  to  cling  to  him,  to  be 
with  him  so  that  I  might  watch  his  f  unn$ 
serious  antics,  each  one  having  in  it  some 
thing  I  had  never  seen  the  like  of  before. 

"He  was  different — he  was  unusually 
amusing  and  at  the  same  time  pathetic. 
Why,  he  even  had  a  way  of  plucking  a 
wild  rose,  of  picking  up  a  leaf  that  was 
different.  And  he  looked  at  me  in  such  a 
knowing  way  that  I  was  always  expecting 
his  baby  lips  to  open  and  tell  me  a  sad  or 


48   THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

frightful  story.  Mrs.  Lincoln  called  him 
Abraham,  but  my  mother  and  I  called  him 
Abe.  Abraham  was  too  much  for  my  boy- 
tongue.  Even  after  he  became  president 
I  called  him  Abe,  for  I  loved  it ;  it  carried 
me  back  to  the  da^s  of  my  childhood 
among  the  hills  here,  and  seemed  to  flood 
my  heart  with  memories  of  my  most  loved 
playmate.  To  my  mind  there  is  no  pret 
tier  name  than  the  old-time  bob-tailed 
name  of  Abe. 

\/  "Abe  was  a  good-sized  lad  at  three," 
continued  Mr.  Gollaher,  "but  he  would 
v  not,  or  could  not,  talk.  He  just  looked  on 
Jfcile  I  played  around  the  spring,  never 
smiling  or  whimpering,  or  indicating  in 
any  way  that  he  wanted  to  do  more  than 
follow  where  I  led;  and  when  I  looked 
back  upon  that  first  day  of  my  real  ac 
quaintance  with  Abe  Lincoln  and  think 
of  the  Great  Leader  of  Men,  following  me, 
it  amuses  me  a  great  deal. 

"I     cut     two     sassafras     sticks     and 
trimmed  them.    Placing  a  stick  between 


THE  BINDING  TIE  49 

Abe's  long  funny  legs  and  straddling  an 
other,  I  tried  to  interest  him  in  playing 
horse,  but  he  only  stood  and  looked  at  me. 
Then  I  said  to  him:  'Hit  your  horse  and 
make  it  go.'  Then  he  hit  the  stick-horse 
with  his  switch  and  followed  me  around 
the  cliff  which  sheltered  the  spring. 

"Abe  wouldn't  play  much  that  after 
noon,  but  he  stayed  with  me  until  mother 
and  I  started  home.  I  wanted  to  take  him 
along  with  me,  but  Mrs.  Lincoln  laughed 
and  said  she  couldn't'' spare'  him.  He 
had  impressed  me  so  deeply  that  I  could 
not  forget  him,  and,  in  my  child  mind,  I 
knew  that  my  friendship  for  Abe  Lincoli^fc 
was  firmly  and  eternally  established.  For 
days  I  thought  of  him;  I  wanted  to  see 
him  again ;  I  wanted  to  see  if  I  could  get 
him  to  talk  to  me — to  tell  me  one  of  those 
strange  stories  I  believed  was  in  his  soul, 
and  I  annoyed  my  mother  until  she  again 
took  me  to  see  him.  During  the  next  visit, 
Abe  and  I  became  better  friends ;  that  is 
to  say,  Abe  became  more  friendly  with  me. 


50   THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

To  my  surprise,  he  brought  forth  the  two 
stick-horses  I  had  left  with  him  and 
lisped  *  Horse'  as  he  offered  me  one." 

After  this  fashion,  as  related  by  Mr. 
Gollaher,  the  lad,  Austin,  and  the  child, 
Abe,  products  of  the  backwoods,  estab 
lished  a  loyal  friendship,  and  for  a  num 
ber  of  years  were  constant,  almost 
inseparable  companions.  In  the  heart  of 
Austin  Gollaher,  a  heart  which  grew  old 
among  his  native  hills,  there  was  ever  a 
mellow,  wonderful  love  for  Abraham  Lin 
coln,  and  it  is  said  that  when  he  came  to 
die  out  there  among  "his  rocks  and  rills" 
^nearly  a  quarter  of  a  century  ago,  his 
withered  old  lips  quivered  "Abe"  as  his 
soul  took  its  flight. 

There  were  those  at  his  bedside  who  be 
lieved  he  spoke  to  Abe  on  the  other  side  of 
the  River;  that  the  backwoods  boys  had 
met  again,  and  that  the  immortal  Lincoln, 
who  conquered  greatly  and  who  died  a 
martyr,  was  happy  once  more  now  that 
his  playmate  had  come  to  join  him. 


CHAPTER  VII 

A  NEW  HOME 

IN  none  of  the  pioneers  was  the  spirit 
of  restlessness  more  active  than  in 
Thomas  Lincoln.  He  could  not  settle 
down  to  the  work  of  establishing  himself 
comfortably  in  the  community  in  which 
he  lived.  He  intended  to  improve  his 
home  conditions,  to  build  a  better  and 
larger  house,  just  as  soon  as  he  could  find 
a  location  to  suit  his  fancy.  He  was  not 
lazy,  neither  was  he  thrifty,  but  he  was  a 
procrastinator  to  his  own  and  to  his  fam 
ily's  distress  of  mind  and  body.  He  spent 
most  of  his  time  planning  and  put  little 
into  execution.  » 

He  would  stay  at  home  closely  for  a 

51 


52   THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

period  and  would  work  industriously; 
then,  without  ceremony,  and  hardly  with 
out  explanation,  he  would  pick  up  his 
flintlock  rifle,  cram  his  pockets  full  of 
ammunition,  grind  his  ax,  sharpen  his 
knife  and  disappear  in  the  wilderness.  He 
might  be  gone  a  day,  a  week,  or  a  month. 
His  wife,  who  knew  his  habits  well,  did 
not  suffer  uneasiness  because  of  his  fre 
quently  prolonged  absences.  Indeed, 
when  he  left  she  did  not  look  for  him  back 
until  she  found  him  pushing  his  way 
through  the  door  of  their  cabin  home  with 
a  cheery  smile  for  his  " beautiful  Nancy." 
His  absence  from  home  when  his  son 
was  born  grieved  him  very  much ;  he  wept 
when  he  heard  from  Mrs.  Gollaher  the 
story  of  his  wife's  suffering.  But  Mrs. 
Gollaher  did  not  let  his  grief  stop  her 
from  lecturing  him  on  his  domestic  care 
lessness.  She  could  see  no  excuse  for  the 
empty  larder,  or  for  the  always  scant 
wood-pile,  since  there  were  both  game  and 
wood  in  abundance.  She  insisted  that  he 


A  NEW  HOME  53 

make  arrangements  at  once  to  move  his 
family  to  a  farm  on  Knob  Creek,  within 
hailing  distance  of  her  own  home.  Mr. 
Lincoln  promised  to  consider  the  matter, 
and  he  did,  for  four  years.  Then  he 
moved. 

While  Mr.  Lincoln  was,  beyond  doubt, 
shiftless  and  apparently  satisfied  to  live 
from  hand  to  mouth,  he  was  never  accused 
of  deliberate  neglect  of  his  family.  He 
seemed  anxious  enough  to  try  to  please 
them,  but  the  roving  spirit  had  him  and  he 
could  not  resist  the  temptation  to  see  what 
folk  were  doing  in  " far-away  places." 
He  was  an  expert  trapper  and  hunter  and 
knew  more  about  the  woods  and  the  hab 
its  of  animals  than  any  of  his  neighbors, 
but  he  thought  his  wife  could  kill  enough 
game  to  meet  the  immediate  needs  of  her 
self  and  their  little  daughter,  Sarah, 
while  he  was  away  on  his  trail-blazing, 
hunting  expeditions. 

Mrs.  Lincoln  used  to  say  laughingly: 
"  Thomas  believes  the  game  thinks  enough 


54   THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

of  me  to  come  around  to  find  out  if  I  am 
in  need  of  meat." 

For  a  long  time  after  the  birth  of  Abra 
ham,  Mr.  Lincoln  stayed  close  at  home 
and  applied  himself  during  the  summer 
to  the  cultivation  of  small  plats  of  ground 
and  during  the  winter  to  odd  jobs  of  saw- 
and-hatchet  work  for  his  neighbors.  In 
the  winter  of  1811-12,  he  had  steady  work 
at  the  Hodgen  Mill,  and  would  frequently 
carry  Abraham  a  distance  of  over  two 
miles  to  spend  the  day  with  Mrs.  Hodgen, 
the  miller's  mother.  But  in  the  latter 
part  of  the  winter,  the  roving  spirit  again 
asserted  itself  and  Mr.  Lincoln  left  home 
to  look  at  some  land  in  Indiana  bordering 
the  Ohio  River.  On  his  return,  he  ex 
pressed  himself  as  well  pleased  and  talked 
of  moving  to  that  state.  However,  to 
please  his  wife  who  was  in  poor  health,  he 
gave  up  the  idea  for  the  time  being  and 
seemed  contented  in  the  thought  that  he 
was  humoring  his  Nancy. 

The  Lincolns  continued  to  live  in  the 


A  NEW  HOME  55 

cabin  where  Abraham  was  born  until  the 
spring  of  1813,  when  they  moved  to  the 
farm  near  that  of  the  Gollahers.  Abra 
ham  was  now  more  than  four  years  old, 
but  Mrs.  Lincoln  had  not  recovered  from 
the  illness  incident  to  his  birth,  and  to 
that  of  a  later  son  who  died  when  quite 
young  and  who  was  buried  in  the  woods 
on  the  banks  of  the  south  fork  of  Nolynn 
River,  a  short  distance  from  the  Lincoln 
farm. 

All  were  happier  in  their  new  home  be 
cause  they  were  so  near  their  good 
friends.  Mrs.  Lincoln  improved  in 
health ;  Mr.  Lincoln  applied  himself  more 
closely  to  the  farm,  and  the  two  children 
were  stronger  and  better  than  they  had 
been  at  Cave  Spring.  The  cabin  home 
was  more  commodious,  and  the  general 
surroundings  were  more  inviting. 

A  daily  association  immediately  sprang 
up  between  Abraham  Lincoln  and  Austin 
Gollaher — an  association  so  remarkable 
in  its  pleasing  effect  upon  both  boys  that 


/""A 

56   THE  BOYHOOD  OP  LINCOLN 

Thomas  Gollaher  suggested  to  Thomas 
Lincoln  that  they  yoke  them  together  like 
steers.  This  remark  so  impressed  Abra 
ham  that  the  next  day  he  very  seriously 
asked  his  father  when  he  and  Mr.  Golla 
her  were  going  to  "make  that  yoke." 
Notwithstanding  Abraham  was  three 
years  younger  than  Austin,  he  was  quite 
as  large  physically,  while  his  mind  was 
that  of  a  child  very  much  older. 

It  was  in  the  Knob  Creek  hills  sur 
rounding  the  homes  of  the  Gollahers  and 
the  Lincolns  that  most  of  the  incidents 
and  adventures  here  related  occurred — 
incidents  that  were  kept  fresh  in  the  mem 
ory  of  Austin  Gollaher  by  the  unusual 
sayings  of  the  boy  Lincoln,  and  later  by 
the  towering  greatness  of  the  man.  When 
Mr.  Lincoln  became  president,  Mr.  Golla 
her  very  naturally  went  to  the  store-house 
of  memory  for  anecdotes  of  his  and  Lin 
coln's  boyhood  in  the  wilderness,  and  he 
found  many  and  told  them  to  his  neighbors 
during  a  period  of  many  years. 


A  NEW  HOME  /  57 

Down  at  Hodgen  Mill  the  pioneers  were 
one  day  discussing  various  topics  when 
Isom  Enlow  incidentally  remarked  to 
Thomas  Lincoln  that  Abe  had  been  named 
after  his  son,  Abraham  Enlow.  Mr.  Lin 
coln  replied  that  he  was  mistaken,  that  the 
boy  had  been  named  after  his  Grand 
father  Lincoln.  There  was  a  good-natured 
argument  over  the  naming  of  the  boy,  and 
the  question  was  finally  referred  to  Mrs. 
Lincoln  for  settlement.  Very  quickly  and 
emphatically  she  replied:  "Yes,  Abra 
ham  was  named  after  Mr.  Enlow 's  son; 
I  gave  him  that  name  myself,  for  I  could 
never  repay  Mr.  Enlow 's  kindness;  but," 
she  added,  "since  Mr.  Lincoln's  father 
was  Abraham,  it  is  all  right  to  let  my  boy 
be  named  after  both." 

"I'm  named  after  two  people,"  Abra 
ham  said  to  Austin  one  day,  "and  I 
reckon  my  name  is  'Abraham  Abraham 
Lincoln,'  so  I'm  mighty  glad,  Austin,  thai 
you  Just  call  me  'Abe.'  " 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THE    MIRACULOUS  ESCAPE 

on  Knob  Creek  there  was  a  big 
flat  rock  thrust  out  from  the  side  of  the 
cliff  as  though  there  wasn't  space  for  it 
within.  Underneath  it  there  was  room 
for  a  nice  play-house,  and  on  top  of  it  am 
ple  space  to  build  a  child-world.  The  top 
was  smooth  and  slightly  slanting  like  the 
roof  of  a  flat-top  house;  above  it  were 
projecting  rocks,  covered  with  running 
vines.  It  was  an  ideal  place  for  boys  to 
meet  their  imaginary  friends  and  ene 
mies,  to  build  castles  in  the  air,  to  fight 
battles  with  the  Indians,  or  to  kill  bears 
and  lions,  and  then,  getting  away  from 
their  bewildering  and  heroic  imagina 
tions,  to  lie  down  and  listen  to  the  restful 
trickling  of  the  mountain  stream. 

58 


THE  MIRACULOUS  ESCAPE    59 

On  this  rock,  Abe  and  Austin  fought 
many  victorious  battles  and  dreamed  the 
long  thoughts  of  youth  as  they  looked  out 
over  the  wonderful  world  of  their  imagin 
ing.  Abe  called  the  rock  "the  Nice  Stone," 
and  it  could  not  have  been  better  named. 
Its  surface  was  kept  polished  by  the  over 
flowing  waters  of  Knob  Creek,  and  Fa 
ther  Time  had  made  steps  to  it,  so  that  the 
top,  four  or  five  feet  above  the  level  of  the 
ground,  could  be  reached  without  over 
hand  climbing. 

For  two  years,  when  the  weather  al 
lowed,  the  boys  made  the  Nice  Stone 
their  haven,  but  when  they  grew  older 
they  were  kept  pretty  busy  helping  make 
ready  against  the  winter. 

"We  were  more  than  *  half  -hands,'  " 
said  Mr.  Gollaher,  "and  much  more  than 
worth  our  'board  and  keep.'  We  could 
even  fell  good-sized  trees,  or  at  least  we 
thought  them  good-sized,  and  by  begin 
ning  early  in  the  spring  and  by  keeping 
it  up  at  odd  times  through  the  summer 


60   THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

and  fall,  Abe  and  I  would  chop  as  likely  a 
pile  of  wood  as  anybody.  We  were  also 
handy  with  the  hoe.  So,  you  see,"  con 
tinued  Mr.  Gollaher,  "our  daddies  found 
us  out  and  kept  us  humping  most  of  the 
time. 

"But  the  Nice  Stone  was  so  alluring  to 
Abe  and  me  that  we  occasionally  played 
off  on  our  fathers  and  went  there  for  a 
*  skirmish'  when  we  were  expected  to  be  at 
our  task.  However,  we  soon  got  caught 
at  that  trick  by  father  and  Mr.  Lincoln, 
who  led  us  by  the  ears  through  the  woods 
to  the  clearing  where  we  were  at  work  and 
threatened  to  give  us  a  good  tanning  if  we 
were  ever  again  guilty  of  shirking  our 
duties.  You  see,  it  was  very  important  in 
those  days  for  everybody  to  keep  pegging 
away.  It  was  a  big  job  to  clear  and  clean 
up  land  and  cultivate  crops  because  our 
tools  and  implements  were  very  poor,  and 
to  lose  time  through  idleness  was  consid 
ered  mighty  dishonorable." 

It  was  in  the  spring — one  of  those  first 


THE  MIEACULOUS  ESCAPE    61 

bright  warm  days  when  every  normal  boy 
longs  for  the  green  hills  and  the  blossom 
ing  valleys.  Nature  beckoned,  and  Abe 
and  Austin  obeyed ;  they  went  to  the  Nice 
Stone.  Abe  was  standing  upon  the  rock, 
looking  down  into  the  clean  water  of 
Knob  Creek.  " There's  a  fish,"  he  said, 
"in  the  pool  down  there,"  and  he  pointed 
his  long  finger  at  a  floundering  black  bass 
that  had,  in  some  way,  wandered  from  the 
main  stream.  It  was  a  big  one  and  the 
boys,  when  they  reached  the  pool,  had 
some  trouble  in  landing  it. 

Suddenly  there  came  a  terrible  crash, 
and  the  boys  were  covered  with  small 
pieces  of  stone  and  many  clods  of  dirt,  for 
an  immense  rock  had  dropped  from  the 
cliff  above  squarely  down  upon  the  spot 
where  a  moment  before  Abe  had  stood. 
Austin,  badly  frightened,  was  ready  to 
flee,  but  Abe  stood  quiet  for  a  moment 
and  then  with  a  little  concern  asked: 
"What  do  you  reckon  caused  that?" 

"I  don't  know  what  caused  it,"  an- 


62   THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

swered  Austin,  still  alarmed,  "but  I  do 
know  it  didn't  miss  you  very  much,  and  if 
it  had  hit  you  it  would  have  mashed  your 
head  off." 

"It  missed  me  a  heap,"  Abe  quietly 
said.  "It  missed  me  as  far  as  it  is  from 
here  to  the  Nice  Stone." 

"Well,  it  missed  you  just  about  a  min 
ute,"  retorted  Austin,  "and  if  you  go 
there  to  play  any  more,  you'll  have  to  go 
by  yourself,  because  there  are  two  more 
rocks  hanging  up  there  and  one  of  them 
might  fall  any  time." 

"Another  rock  might  not  fall  there 
again  as  long  as  we  live,  Austin,  but  we 
won't  play  around  there  any  more,  be 
cause  if  one  of  them  did  fall  and  kill  you, 
I'd  feel  like  I  was  the  cause  of  it." 

"When  we  told  our  mothers  of  the 
near-accident,  we  were  warned  not  to  visit 
the  rock  again,  and  it  was  a  long  time 
before  we  returned  there,"  said  Mr. 
Gollaher.  "But  Abe  didn't  seem  to  think 
anything  at  all  about  his  miraculous 


THE  MIEACULOUS  ESCAPE    63 

escape,  and  when  I  mentioned  it  lie  talked 
about  what  a  big  fish  we  caught  out  of  the 
pool.  We  missed  the  Nice  Stone,  and 
were  often  tempted  to  resume  our  play 
there,  but  I  was  afraid,  and  since  Abe's 
mother  had  told  him  he  must  not,  he  could 
not  have  been  persuaded  to  disobey  her. 

"Why,  I'll  tell  you,"  said  the  old  man, 
full  of  sincerity,  "God  watched  over  Abe 
Lincoln;  He  didn't  want  him  killed,  be 
cause  there  were  no  others  like  him ;  and 
He  wanted  to  use  Abe  for  a  big  purpose ; 
and  He  didn't  want  to  go  to  the  trouble  to 
make  another  like  him,"  continued  the  ex 
cited  and  emphatic  Mr.  Gollaher.  "Had 
I  been  upon  the  Nice  Stone  alone,  that  big 
boulder  would  have  hit  me  square  upon 
the  head  and  mashed  every  bone  in  my 
body.  Abe's  presence  saved  me.  And 
don't  you  know,  I  got  it  into  my  child- 
head  that  God  was  watching  over  me,  too, 
so  that  I  could  keep  Abe  company  and 
amuse  him  with  some  of  my  antics.  When 
I  was  with  Abe  I  had  a  sort  of  safe  and  se- 


64   THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

cure  feeling — a  feeling  that  nothing  of 
any  serious  consequence  could  happen  to 
either  of  us.  There  was  something  that 
caused  me  to  look  upon  that  long-leg  boy 
in  wonder.  It  was  no  surprise  to  me  when 
I  heard  Abe  had  been  elected  president. 
I  reckon  I  saved  Abe's  life  two  or  three 
times,  but  if  I  hadn't  been  there  to  do  it, 
God  would  have  saved  him  in  some  other 
way.  I  wasn't  a  bit  scared  the  time  they 
raised  such  a  fuss  about  Abe  being  lost, 
and  I  told  my  mother  that  he'd  turn  up  all 
right.  Mother  asked  me  why  I  thought 
so,  and  I  told  her  that  God  was  looking  af 
ter  Abe.  Then  mother  smiled  and  said  to 
me:  'Well,  we  are  going  out  with  torches 
to  look  for  him  anyhow,  and  we  are  all 
praying  that  God  will  guide  us  to  him.' 

"Once  I  asked  Abe  if  he  believed  the 
devil  stayed  down  deep  under  the  ground, 
and  to  my  surprise  he  said;  'No  sir-ee,  I 
don't;  I  believe  he's  in  the  woods  and  ev 
erywhere;  when  he's  around  here  I  think 
he  spends  most  of  his  time  in  the  heart  of 


THE  MIRACULOUS  ESCAPE    65 

old  Mr.  Evans.'  Abe  was  always  answer 
ing  me  in  that  curious  way,  curious  for  a 
boy  at  least. 

"I  never  liked  to  go  to  the  Hodgen  Mill 
alone,"  said  the  old  man,  " although  I  car 
ried  a  rifle  and  could  shoot  straight  as 
any  one.  I  had  an  uneasy  feeling  when  I 
was  out  on  that  old  lonesome  road  by  my 
self.  But  Abe,  when  he  was  less  than  six 
years  old,  went  alone,  carried  his  corn  and 
didn't  seem  to  mind  it.  It  was  a  distance, 
too,  of  about  four  miles  from  here,  and  the 
country  was  pretty  rough  and  gloomy.  I 
felt  skittish  without  Abe,  and  father  made 
fun  of  me  when  I  told  him  it  was  too  dan 
gerous  for  a  boy  to  make  the  trip  alone, 
that  some  day  I  might  meet  a  big  wild  ani 
mal  and  that  if  my  aim  wasn't  good,  it 
would  kill  me  and  then  nobody  would  ever 
know  what  became  of  me.  Father  just 
laughed  and  said  I  was  big  enough  to  kill 
a  bear  with  my  naked  hands,  adding  that 
he  knew  what  I  was  up  to,  that  I  just 
wanted  'Abe  Lincoln  to  go  with  me.' 


X66   THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

/  N. 

41  Abe  wouldn't  learn  to  shoot  a  gun,  and 
didn't  carry  one,"  Mr.  Gollaher  said,  bit 
ing  off  another  chew  of  his  "  store  to 
bacco."  "But  his  father  made  him  carry 
a  knife  and  a  small  ax.  (My  grandfather, 
who  was  a  blacksmith,  made  the  ax  for 
him.)  Well,  it  was  finally  arranged  so 
that  Abe  and  I  could  make  most  of  the 
trips  to  the  mill  together,  but  occasionally 
something  would  happen,  either  with 
Abe's  family  or  mine,  that  would  make  it 
necessary  for  us  to  go  alone;  and  don't 
you  know  I  actually  refused  to  go  without 
Abe;  I  was  mortally  afraid,  and  two  or 
three  times  father  found  it  necessary  to 
start  me  with  a  hickory.  But  if  Abe  was 
ever  afraid  to  go  without  me,  he  never 
mentioned  it, 

"I  never  often  saw  Abe  excited,"  he 
continued,  "but  on  one  occasion  when  a 
small  wildcat  attacked  his  dog,  *  Honey,' 
and  Abe  thought  he  was  going  to  be  killed, 
he  got  so  nervous  he  danced  a  jig  and 
yelled  to  me  to  shoot  the  cat,  but  before  I 


THE  MIRACULOUS  ESCAPE    67 

could  shoot,  Honey,  minus  a  little  hair, 
went  one  way  and  the  cat  another.  Then 
Abe,  taking  a  big  long  breath,  said:  *I 
was  scared,  Austin,  because  it  looked  like 
that  wildcat  was  going  to  skin  Honey 
alive.'  " 

Mr.  Gollaher  gazed  across  the  little 
field  in  front  of  his  home  to  the  hills,  and 
half  to  himself  he  asked : 

"Why  was  that  pool  made  in  the  edge 
of  Knob  Creek  ?  Why  did  the  fish  get  into 
the  pool,  and  why  did  it  flounder  two  min 
utes  before  that  stone  fell?"  And  then 
he  answered  his  own  questions,  saying: 
"Just  God's  mysterious  way  of  doing 
things." 


CHAPTER  IX 

NEW  FRIENDS 

THE  narrow  road,  which,  like  a  huge 
rusty  snake,  wound  its  way  through  the 
Knob  Creek  hills  to  Hodgen's  Mill,  was 
bordered  by  hundreds  of  great  forest 
trees,  " three-footers"  the  natives  called 
them.  It  was  the  custom  to  cut  away  the 
bark  for  a  space  possibly  a  foot  square, 
smooth  it  down  carefully  and  then  upon 
the  bright  surface  inscribe  notes,  bits  of 
doggerel  or  directions  to  the  passing- 
stranger.  This  method  of  woodland  cor 
respondence  became  so  popular  that  many 
romantic  settlers  carried  with  them  a  wil 
low  twig  brush  and  a  small  container 
filled  with  pokeberry  ink.  It  was  like  the 
gay  days  in  the  Forest  of  Arden  when  Or 
lando  wrote  his  love-notes  to  Rosalind. 
68 


NEW  FRIENDS  69 

Thomas  Gollaher  had  just  trimmed  a 
smooth  spot  upon  the  trunk  of  a  big  tree 
and  was  preparing  to  " indite"  a  letter — 
a  simple,  three  or  four  word  letter,  in 
which  he  would  find  amusement,  but  oth 
ers  would  perhaps  see  nothing  except  a 
senseless  scrawling when  a  short  dis 
tance  ahead  of  him  he  saw  young  Lincoln 
trudging  along  with  a  good-sized  dog  un 
der  one  arm  and  a  small  sack  of  meal  upon 
the  opposite  shoulder.  It  was  a  heavy 
load,  very  much  too  heavy  for  the  lad,  big 
as  he  was,  and  he  carelessly  threw  the  sack 
of  meal  down  under  a  clump  of  bushes, 
then  very  gently  placed  the  dog  on  the 
ground  beside  it.  The  day  was  hot,  and 
under  his  burden  Abe  was  steaming  and 
perspiring.  He  fanned  himself  with  a 
bunch  of  leaves  and  dropped  down  beside 
the  dog.  The  curious  Mr.  Gollaher 
slipped  noiselessly  from  behind  one  big 
tree  to  another,  Indian-fashion,  until  he 
was  within  a  few  feet  of  Abe.  Then  he 
watched  and  listened. 


70   THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

Abe  was  holding  the  dog  close  to  his 
breast,  calling  it  " Honey"  and  talking  to 
it  most  sympathetically.  Again  he  placed 
it  on  the  ground  by  the  bag  of  meal,  and 
went  to  a  small  spring  across  the  road  and 
brought  back  a  cap  full  of  water  which  he 
gave  the  dog  to  drink.  Then  he  took  a 
hunting  knife  from  his  belt  and  quickly 
whittled  out  two  rude  splints.  Next  he 
peeled  the  bark  from  some  pawpaw 
bushes,  placed  a  splint  on  each  side  of  the 
dog's  right  foreleg  and  wrapped  it  with 
the  soft  pliable  bark.  The  wounded  dog 
licked  Abe's  hands  and  face,  and  whined 
its  thanks  into  his  ear.  The  new  friends 
loved  each  other — the  boy  because  it  was 
natural  for  him,  out  of  his  sympathetic 
heart,  to  love  that  which  suffered,  and  the 
dog  out  of  gratitude  for  the  great  kind 
ness  shown  him. 

"By  holy,  he's  fixed  that  dog's  broken 
leg!"  exclaimed  the  astonished  Gollaher 
in  a  voice  that  Abe  overheard.  Realizing 
that  he  had  disclosed  his  presence  he 


One  of  the  old  trails  over  which  Abe  and  Austin  carried  their 
corn  to  Hodgen's  Mill 


NEW  FRIENDS  71 

stepped  out  from  his  listening-post  and 
asked  if  lie  could  be  of  any  assistance  to 
" Doctor  Abraham." 

.Without  displaying  the  slightest  sur 
prise  over  the  sudden  interruption,  the 
boy  quietly  asked  Mr.  Gollaher  for  a  piece 
of  rawhide,  and  the  two  finished  the  job 
by  wrapping  tightly  the  bark  and  11 10 
splints. 

"Give  me  another  piece  of  rawhide, 
please,  Mr.  Gollaher,  to  tie  around  the 
dog's  neck,  so  I  can  fasten  him  to  a  stok" 

"All  right,  Abe ;  here  it  is,  but  don't  you 
know  the  sun  is  about  down  and  you  are 
at  least  a  mile  from  home?  Your 
pappy '11  tan  your  hide  when  you  get 
there.  Now,  you'd  better  move  along; 
I'm  going  the  other  way,  just  as  soon  as  I 
write  my  letter."  And  he  stepped  over 
to  the  tree  which  he  had  prepared  for  his 
inscription. 

"I'll  tell  you  what  I'll  write,"  said  Mr. 
Gollaher  with  a  humorous  twinkle  in  his 
eye.  "I'll  just  say  'Abc-ee  got  a  dog.'  " 


72   THE  BOYHOOD  OP  LINCOLN 

"Now,  please,  Mr.  Gollaher,  don't  tell 
father  about  the  dog,"  begged  Abe,  "for 
he  might  try  to  kill  it  to  put  it  out  of  its 
misery ;  and  I  want  it  to  get  well,  so  Aus 
tin  and  I  can  play  with  it. " 

Mr.  Gollaher  promised,  and  Abe  turned 
homeward,  his  sack  of  meal  over  his 
shoulder,  the  dog  hopping  on  three  legs  at 
his  side.  Then  upon  the  tree,  the  woods 
man  wrote,  in  ragged  letters : 

"ABE  L.  GOT  A  DOBG." 

Abe  trudged  along  stopping  now  and 
then  to  pat  the  dog  on  the  head,  and  to  as 
sure  it  that  the  broken  leg  would  soon  be 
well.  When  in  hailing  distance  of  his 
home  he  paused  to  reconnoiter  and  to 
plan.  He  must  do  something  with  the 
dog ;  he  must  hide  it  temporarily,  because 
there  was  grave  danger  that  his  father 
would  kill  it.  Dropping  his  bag  of  meal, 
he  hurriedly  tied  the  crippled  dog  beneath 
a  sheltering  bush  and  told  it  to  lie  quiet 
until  he  got  back.  On  reaching  home  he 


NEW  FRIENDS  73 

found  his  mother  worried,  as  usual,  be 
cause  of  his  late  arrival,  but  his  explana 
tion  satisfied  her  and  she  forgave  him. 
Indeed,  his  excuses  were  usually  well- 
founded.  The  old  mill  was  slow,  and  each 
customer  had  to  await  his  turn.  The  mil 
ler,  John  Hodgen,  loved  Abe  devotedly, 
but  he  would  not  violate  his  rule  of  "  first 
come  first  served,"  and  Abe's  turn  usu 
ally  came  late. 

He  never  walked  briskly ;  his  was  a  long 
stride  but  slow  careful  step,  and  he  seldom 
hurried,  except  upon  those  occasions 
when  his  father  followed  with  a  switch. 
Then,  too,  he  saw  many  things  of  interest 
along  the  wooded  paths.  The  squirrel,  the 
rabbit,  the  opossum,  and,  indeed,  every 
wild  creature  of  the  woods  challenged 
him  on  his  journeys  to  and  from  the  mill. 
He  had  been  known  to  lose  an  hour's  time 
chasing  a  snake  through  the  weeds  to  res 
cue  a  frog  from  the  reptile's  greedy 
mouth ;  and  the  young  birds  along  the  way 
that  happened  to  fall  from  their  nests' 


74   THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

found  no  more  eager  Samaritan  than 
young  Abe.  He  never  failed  to  climb  the 
tree  and  deliver  the  baby  bird  safely  to  its 
mother.  There  were  so  many  attractions 
in  the  woods,  so  many  things  needing 
Abe's  immediate  attention,  that  it  wasn't 
surprising  he  sometimes  forgot  the  corn- 
meal. 

The  miller  frequently  reprimanded  Abe 
for  his  tardiness,  and  often  when  it  was 
too  late  for  the  boy  to  go  home  alone 
would  saddle  "Old  Fanny,"  his  mare,  and 
deliver  him  and  his  bag  of  meal  to  his 
home  on  Knob  Creek.  And  Mr.  Hodgen, 
being  fond  of  Abe,  usually  stretched  the 
truth  a  bit  and  informed  Thomas  Lincoln 
that  there  were  many  early  customers  and 
that  the  boy's  turn  did  not  come  until  late 
for  that  reason. 

' '  Down  there  by  the  tall  sycamore  tree,  I 
have  a  dog  tied  to  a  sapling,  and  its  leg  is 
broken,"  Abe  whispered  to  his  mother, 
Thomas  having  fallen  asleep  in  the  chim 
ney  corner.  "Please  go  with  me  to  get 


NEW  FEIENDS  75 

him,  and  help  me  put  him  in  the  pen  where 
the  pigs  used  to  stay;  there's  a  roof  over 
it  and  he  won't  get  wet  when  it  rains." 

In  answer  to  his  mother's  inquiries  he 
then  told  the  story  of  how  he  found  the 
crippled  dog  at  the  foot  of  a  precipice, 
and  how  he  had  " fixed"  its  broken  leg. 
"Now,"  he  added,  "father  won't  like  the 
dog,  but  you  will  like  him,  and  so  will 
Sarah,  and  I  want  you  to  beg  father  not 
to  kill  him  or  give  him  away." 

Mrs.  Lincoln,  always  indulgent  of  Abra 
ham,  consented,  and  the  two  went  out 
into  the  night  to  find  the  dog  and  bring 
him  in  to  his  new  home — the  pig  pen.  Abe 
carried  the  wounded  animal  in  his  arms, 
patting  him  and  calling  him  "Honey,"  as 
they  made  their  way  back  to  the  house. 

"You  love  the  dog  so  much,"  said  his 
mother,  when  Abraham  asked  her  what  to 
name  him,  "I  reckon  you'd  better  call 
him  'Honey';  that  was  what  you  called 
him  last  night  when  you  untied  him  from 
the  sapling." 


76   THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

So  the  dog  was  christened  " Honey." 

"He'll  do  lots  of  good  things  for  me," 
said  Abe  to  his  mother.  "You  just  watch 
and  see." 

Mrs.  Lincoln  smiled,  little  thinking 
that  Honey  was  to  play  an  important  part 
in  the  lives  of  the  Lincolns. 

When  at  last,  after  much  careful  nurs 
ing,  the  crude  bandage  was  removed,  Abra 
ham  was  terribly  distressed  to  find  the 
leg  miserably  twisted,  and  he  was  much 
afraid  the  dog  would  never  be  able  to  run 
fast.  However,  Honey  developed  speed 
that  was  surprising,  and  as  the  leg  did  not 
pain  him  or  interfere  with  his  activities 
Abe  was  happy,  for  physical  appearance 
did  not  count  much  with  him  then  as  ever. 

"Honey  was  not  good  to  look  upon," 
said  Mr.  Gollaher;  "his  twisted  leg  re 
minded  me  of  a  curve  in  the  road ;  but  he 
was  the  smartest  dog  in  the  neighborhood, 
and  made  a  fitting  companion  for  Abe 
since  both  were  good  and  smart  and 
ugly." 


CHAPTER  X 

THE  HODGENS 

EVERY  boy  has  Ms  hero.    John  Hodgen, 
the  miller,  was  young  Abe's;  and  Mrs. 
Hodgen,  the  good  man's  mother,  was  his 
heroine.    The  miller  was  big,  and  gentle, 
kind  and  courageous ;  his  mother,  in  Abra 
ham's  opinion,  was  beautiful  and  won 
derfully  wise.    She  was  sixty  years  of  age 
— a    white-haired    widow — her    husband 
having  died  in  1810,  the  year  following 
that  of  Abe's  birth — and  was  the  mother 
of   several   children,   all   of   whom   had 
grown  to  years  of  discretion  before  the 
child  Lincoln  became  such  a  favorite  in 
the  Hodgen  home.    It  was  told  that  on  one 
occasion  Abe  looked  at  her  snow-white 
hair  for  several  minutes,  and  said:     "I 
reckon  God  made  your  hair  white  so  it 

77 


78   THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

would  be  like  an  angel's  robe."  Where 
lie  got  the  simile  no  one  ever  knew. 

Abraham's  first  knowledge  that  there 
is  such  a  country  as  England,  came  from 
Mrs.  Hodgen,  who  told  him  that  her  hus 
band,  Robert  Hodgen,  was  born  there  in 
1742.  She  delighted  the  child  with  many 
interesting  accounts  of  that  far-away  em 
pire,  and  thrilled  him  with  stories  of  her 
husband's  perilous  voyage  across  the  At 
lantic.  He  also  learned  from  Mrs.  Hod 
gen  much  about  Virginia,  as  she  was  born 
there  in  1757,  coming  through  the  great 
dark  wilderness  to  Kentucky  with  her  fa 
ther,  John  LaRue,  when  she  was  quite 
young. 

At  times  Abraham  apparently  enjoyed 
being  with  boys,  but  more  often  he  looked 
on  their  rough  play  with  sad  disgust.  It 
frequently  happened  that  boys  mistook 
cruelty  for  heroism,  and  Abe  despised 
cruelty  wherever  he  found  it.  Bravado 
did  not  thrill  him,  neither  did  the  bully 
frighten  him. 


THE  HODGENS  79 

"One  day  a  lad  by  the  name  of  Evans 
pulled  off  the  head  of  a  young  bird,"  said 
Mr.  Gollaher,  "and  threw  it  at  the  feet  of 
Abe.  He  did  it  because  he  knew  it  would 
displease  Abe,  and  because  he  thought  it 
was  smart  for  a  boy  to  be  cruel.  I  never 
saw  such  a  look  as  that  which  came  into 
Abe's  face;  it  changed  from  the  mildness 
of  summer  to  the  harshness  of  winter,  and 
lie  looked  at  the  offending  boy  until  the 
youngster  from  sheer  terror  hid  his  face 
in  his  hands.  To  my  surprise,  the  Evans 
boy  apologized  for  his  depredation,  but 
Abe  turned  his  back  upon  him  and  said : 
*  Let's  go,  Austin;  I  don't  want  even  to 
be  close  to  him/  " 

To  the  boy  Lincoln,  John  Hodgen,  the 
miller,  was  the  biggest  man  in  the  world, 
and  when  the  boys  teased  him  and  told 
him  he  was  trying  to  be  like  "Mr.  John," 
he  said:  "Well,  if  all  of  you  would  try 
to  be  like  Mr.  John  there  wouldn't  be 
any  need  for  your  parents  to  watch  you  to 
try  to  keep  you  from  doing  wrong." 


80   THE  BOYHOOD  [OF  LINCOLN 

"One  bright  morning  in  ^lid-summer," 
said  Mr.  Gollaher,  "Abe,  Mr.  Hodgen  and 
I  were  standing  on  the  platform  in  front 
of  the  mill  when  old  Zack  Evans  rode  up 
with  a  sack  of  corn.  His  horse  was  blind, 
and  when  he  shied  away  from  the  plat 
form  Evans  gave  him  a  terrific  kick  in 
the  stomach.  The  poor  beast  groaned. 
Abe  looked  at  Mr.  Hodgen  and  Mr.  Hod- 
gen  looked  at  Abe. 

"  'Zaek,  why  did  you  kicK  that  horse?' 
asked  Mr.  Hodgen  angrily;  'the  blind  old 
animal  was  good  enough  to  bring  you  and 
your  corn  to  mill,  and  doesn't  deserve 
such  treatment. ' 

"For  answer  Evans  kicked  the  horse 
again. 

"Quicker  than  a  flash,  John  Hodgen 
grabbed  the  man  by  the  collar  and  pinned 
him  against  the  platform ;  then  he  raised 
him  up  and  looked  into  his  face  and  said ; 
'Take  your  corn  away  from  here,  and 
don't  you  come  around  me  any  more;  if 
you  ever  kick  that  old  horse  again  in  my 


THE  HODGENS  81 

presence  I  '11  give  you  a  thrashing  you  will 
remember  as  long  as  you  live. ' 

"At  first  I  thought  the  frightened  man 
was  going  to  run  away,  but  he  soon  re 
gained  his  senses,  and  was  loud  in  his 
apologies.  He  begged  Mr.  Hodgen  to 
grind  the  corn,  which,  of  course,  he  did. 

"It  was  unusual  for  Abe  to  show  elation 
over  anything  and  especially  over  quar 
rels  or  fights,  but  he  seemed  to  get  pleas 
ure  out  of  the  shaking  Mr.  Hodgen  gave 
Zack  Evans.  At  the  conclusion  of  the 
apology  Abe  said  rather  spiritedly: 
'Your  boy  pulled  off  the  head  of  a  live 
bird  and  threw  it  at  my  feet  the  other  day 
and  he  asked  me  to  forgive  him  just  like 
you  did  Mr.  Hodgen.  Your  boy  oughn't 
to  do  any  more  birds  that  way  and  you 
oughtn't  to  kick  your  horse  any  more.'  " 

The  mill  was  on  a  cliff,  overlooking 
Nolynn  Eiver,  while  the  home  of  the  Hod- 
gens  rested  in  a  pretty  grove  a  quarter  of 
a  mile  to  the  west  on  the  river  bank.  It 
was  perhaps  the  most  commodious  house 


82   THE  BOYHOOD  OE  LINCOLN 

in  that  region  and  was  looked  upon  ad 
miringly  by  every  pioneer  who  saw  it.  It 
was  here  that  Abraham  Lincoln  gained 
his  thirst  for  knowledge  and  learned 
many  of  the  simpler  lessons  of  life.  So 
ardent  was  the  love  of  John  Hodgen  and 
his  mother  for  the  boy  that  they  several 
times  begged  Mrs.  Lincoln  to  give  him  to 
them,  but  she  always  said  no  to  their 
pleadings.  For  days  at  a  time  during  the 
winter  Abraham  would  visit  them,  but  af 
ter  a  while  he  would  get  homesick  for  his 
mother  and  sister  and  Austin,  and  then 
John  Hodgen  and  his  mother  would  bun 
dle  him  up  and  send  him  trudging  back 
across  the  hills  to  Knob  Creek. 


CHAPTER  XI 

SHIEST  FOB  LEARNING! 

ABRAHAM  called  John  Hodgen  "Mr. 
John,"  and  Mrs.  Hodgen  "Missus 
Sarah,"  but  he  always  called  Isaac  Hod 
gen  "Mr.  Hodgen,"  because  he  could  not 
pronounce  Isaac  clearly.  Then,  too,  Mr. 
John  and  Missus  Sarah  were  his  closest 
friends  and  he  doubtless  felt  it  was  a  lit 
tle  more  endearing  to  use  their  given 
names. 

From  the  lips  of  John  Hodgen  and  his 
mother,  the  boy  learned  something  of  the 
wonders  of  the  world,  of  far-off  lands 
and  cities  rich  and  splendid.  They  told 
him  the  story  of  Columbus  and  stirred  his 
latent  love  of  country  with  the  proud 
name  of  Washington.  Those  stories  Abe 

83 


84   THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN" 

greedily  devoured,  but  he  didn't  like  tales 
of  Indian  massacres,  and  when  John 
Hodgen  teasingly  began  one  of  them  the 
boy  begged  for  more  of  George  Washing 
ton  or  Eobinson  Crusoe,  whose  patience 
in  teaching  " Friday"  impressed  him 
greatly. 

"Abe  said  to  me  one  day,"  related  Mr. 
Gollaher,  laughingly,  "that  the  reason  he 
liked  Mr.  Crusoe  was  because  he  believed 
the  adventurer  was  just  like  Mr.  John, 
that  had  Mr.  John  been  out  there  on  that 
island,  he  would  have  done  everything  as 
Mr.  Crusoe  did  it." 

From  his  mother  and  from  Mrs.  Hod- 
gen  Abraham  learned  his  A  B  C's.  In 
deed,  these  two  women  created  in  him  the 
first  thirst  for  knowledge — that  thirst 
wilich  grew  as  the  boy  grew,  until  it  be 
came  his  first  concern,  his  one  great  pas 
sion.  With  pencils  of  soapstone,  upon 
smooth  boards  scorched  black  over  the 
backlog  fire,  Mrs.  Hodgen  spelled  and 
figured  and  explained,  never  losing  pa- 


THIEST  FOR  LEARNING1      85 

tience  in  her  effort  to  teach  the  boy — to 
give  him  the  fundamental  three  R's.  Abe 
was  proud  of  his  progress  and  worked 
faithfully ;  indeed,  he  became  so  studious 
that  his  father  threatened  to  forbid  fur 
ther  "  education,"  but  Mrs.  Hodgen 
shamed  him  out  of  this  and  assured  him 
that  one  day  he  would  be  exceedingly 
proud  of  his  son,  Abraham.  However,  she 
did  not  succeed  in  convincing  Mr.  Lincoln 
that  education  was  necessary;  in  fact,  he 
told  her  it  was  a  waste  of  time,  and  "a 
piece  of  foolishness"  to  interest  a  boy  as 
big  and  strong  as  Abraham  in  "  book- 
learning,"  that  such  things  should  be  re 
served  for  girls,  and  for  boys  who  were 
small  and  sickly. 

Each  week  Mrs.  Hodgen  would  write  on 
the  burnt  board  one  of  the  Ten  Command 
ments,  and  when  Abraham  came  to  the 
mill  with  corn  she  would  read  and  reread 
it  to  him  until  it  was  pretty  well  im 
pressed  upon  his  fresh  young  mind.  Then 
on  his  next  visit  to  the  mill  she  would  read 


86   THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

him  a  new  Commandment  and  have  him 
repeat  the  one  of  the  previous  week. 

Mrs.  Hodgen  used  kindergarten  meth 
ods  of  her  own  devising  long  before  kin 
dergartens  were  dreamed  of.  Her  illus 
trations  were  amusing  and  impressive. 
For  example:  She  would  drive  three 
sticks  or  stobs  into  the  ground ;  to  one  she 
would  tie  a  cat,  to  another  a  hen,  and  to 
the  third  Abraham's  dog,  and  then  in  the 
ground  beside  each  she  would  write  its 
name :  c-a-t,  h-e-n,  d-o-g.  Of  course  the  boy 
was  tremendously  interested;  he  would 
walk  from  one  stob  to  another,  stopping 
and  thinking ;  then  back  again  to  the  be 
ginning.  Finally  he  cried  out  that  he 
could  "do  them,"  and  turning  his  back  he 
went  down  on  his  hands  and  knees  and 
wrote  "cat,"  "hen"  and  "dog"  on  that 
smoothed  spot  in  the  back  yard  of  the 
Hodgen  home  where  he  and  Austin  played 
marbles. 

On  his  way  home  that  afternoon  Abe 
printed  "cat,"  "hen"  and  "dog"  on  ev- 


THIRST  FOR  LEARNING       87 

ery  inviting  spot  that  he  passed ;  the  fair 
face  of  nature  was  splotched  and  blotted, 
and  Abraham  was  late  to  supper.  The 
truthful  explanation  he  gave  his  father 
was  entirely  unsatisfactory,  and  a  whip 
ping  followed.  Thomas  Lincoln  was  dis 
pleased  and  again  threatened  to  forbid 
any  more  of  that  foolishness  which  Mrs. 
Hodgen  was  putting  into  the  boy's  head. 
But  Mrs.  Lincoln  interceded;  and  when 
she  believed  it  necessary  to  be  positive 
with  her  husband  she  could  be,  so  Mr.  Gol- 
laher  asserted,  finally  and  completely 
positive.  Thomas  Lincoln  seriously  be 
lieved  that  Abraham's  thirst  for  book 
learning  would  be  his  ultimate  ruin  and 
naturally  did  not  feel  very  kindly  toward 
Mrs.  Hodgen. 

Abraham  told  Austin  about  the  inci 
dent,  and  added  that  he  was  very  sorry  his 
father  didn't  seem  to  want  a  boy  to  lean* 
anything  out  of  books,  and  that  "if  father 
had  learned  a  little  about  reading  and 
writing  when  he  was  a  child  he  might  not 


88   THE  BOYHOOD  OP  LINCOLN 

have  wanted  to  kill  as  many  foxes  and 
coons  and  other  things  in  the  woods." 

Mr.  Lincoln  had  practically  no  educa 
tion.  When  he  made  an  occasional  sale  of 
pelts  to  a  huckster  he  had  to  get  his  wife 
to  "figure  up  the  amount  due  him"  and 
then  count  the  money.  But  he  was  unal 
terably  opposed  to  education,  saying  that 
people  who  could  read  were  lazy,  and  neg 
lectful  of  their  duties  in  the  fields  and 
woods. 

But  Abraham  did  not  let  his  father's 
reprimand  or  his  opposition  to  book 
learning  keep  him  from  Missus  Sarah's 
open-air  school  or  the  room  up-stairs  that 
she  had  set  apart  exclusively  for  her  pu 
pil's  use. 

In  his  spelling  lessons  the  word  which 
gave  to  him  the  most  trouble  was  "  tur 
key."  He  would  sometimes  spell  it 
"tirkee,"  sometimes  "terkee,"  or,  getting 
closer  to  it,  "turkie."  Finally  Missus 
Sarah  succeeded  in  getting  him  straight 
ened  out  on  the  letter  "u"  by  telling  him 


THIRST  FOR  LEARNING       89 

to  remember:  "When  I  tell  YOU  to  go 
to  the  spring  for  water  YOU  must  go. 
Now,"  she  said,  "U-U-U,  YOU  must  re 
member."  He  then  learned  to  spell 
"key"  and  so  finished  his  education  as 
far  as  "turkey"  was  concerned.  When 
he  told  Austin  that  he  knew  how  to  spell 
' '  turkey ' '  the  latter  replied :  ' '  Well,  I  'd 
lots  rather  know  how  to  shoot  one;  the 
spelling  won't  do  you  any  good,  but  if 
you'd  learn  to  shoot  straight  you'd  kill 
one  every  now  and  then.  What  good '11  it 
do  you  to  spell  'em  if  you  can't  get  'em  to 
eat?"  he  asked  very  seriously. 

Until  the  end  of  his  long  life  Mr.  Golla- 
her  repeated  Lincoln's  answer  to  that 
question  at  every  opportunity,  sometimes 
laughingly  and  sometimes  soberly,  but  al 
ways  with  earnestness. 

"It's  this  way,  Austin,"  replied  Abe, 
"eating  is  good  and  we  have  to  eat  to  live, 
but  if  you  are  going  to  keep  it  on  your 
mind  you'd  just  as  well  have  been  born  a 
pig,  then  you  could  have  rooted  around 


90   THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

all  day  long  for  something  to  chew  up  and 
swallow.  We  ought  to  put  something  in 
our  heads  as  well  as  in  our  bellies.  Every 
thing  depends  on  our  heads — on  the 
things  we  get  out  of  books.  The  more  we 
put  into  our  heads,  the  easier  we  will  get 
things  to  put  into  our  bellies.  Of  course, 
we've  got  to  kill  things  to  eat,  but  if  I  had 
to  kill  anything  I  could  kill  it  with  a  rock ; 
I  don't  want  to  learn  how  to  shoot ;  father 
can  do  the  shooting  for  me.  He  doesn't 
mind  killing  things  and  I  do.  Yes,  sir-ee ; 
I'd  rather  know  how  to  spell  turkey  than 
be  able  to  shoot  its  head  off  with  a  gun." 

"  Although  Abe  pleaded  with  me,  I 
could  not  be  persuaded  to  take  an  interest 
in  Mrs.  Hodgen's  free  school,"  said  Mr. 
Gollaher,  "and  it  always  pleased  me  when 
I  heard  Mr.  Lincoln  making  fun  of  edu 
cation.  I  preferred  to  become  a  good 
hunter  and  trapper — a  woodsman  with  a 
mighty  swinging  ax — and  I  devoted  my 
time  to  training  myself  along  those  lines." 

"When  he  became  a  very  old  man  he  said 


THIRST  FOR  LEARNING       91 

it  had  been  one  of  tlie  deepest  regrets  of 
his  life  that  he  had  not  gone  with  Abe  to 
Missus  Sarah's  school,  but  he  added,  with 
a  smile,  "I  was  a  better  wood-chopper,  a 
better  hunter  and  a  better  trapper  than 
Abe,  even  if  he  was  a  better  president." 
Arithmetic  was  too  prosy  for  Abraham. 
He  thought  it  a  waste  of  time  to  try  to  get 
sense  out  of  figures,  and  Mrs.  Hodgen 
had  no  end  of  trouble  in  persuading  him 
that  it  was  worth  while  to  know  that  two 
times  two  are  four.  He  contended  that  he 
wanted  to  learn  how  to  read  so  that  he 
could  find  out  about  Columbus  and  Wash 
ington,  and  what  had  gone  on  in  the 
world ;  he  could  not  see  that  figures  would 
help  him  to  do  that.  He  told  Austin  that 
he  did  not  expect  to  have  much  to  do  with 
things  that  would  require  "  adding  to  and 
taking  from."  But  Mrs.  Hodgen  told 
him  that  some  day  he  would  own  a  cow 
that  he  might  want  to  sell.  "Then,"  she 
said,  "you  couldn't  even  count  the  money, 
and  the  man  to  whom  you  sold  the  cow 


92   THE  BOYHOOD  OP  LINCOLN 

might  cheat  you."  This  seemed  to  im 
press  him  and  he  applied  himself  a  little 
more  interestedly  in  an  effort  to  unravel 
some  of  the  simple  mysteries  of  figures. 

"Abe  very  quickly  learned  how  to  pro 
nounce  a  great  many  small  words,"  said 
Mr.  Gollaher,  "but  figures  seemed  to 
worry  him  a  lot.  After  he  was  able  to  say 
arithmetic  correctly,  he  took  more  inter 
est  in  addition  and  subtraction.  He  cer 
tainly  made  a  mighty  slow  start  in  'sums' 
and  a  mighty  fast  start  in  everything  else 
in  the  way  of  learning.  I  reckon  his  for 
wardness  in  reading  and  writing  made 
him  seem  more  backward  in  arithmetic 
than  he  really  was.  Before  he  left  Ken 
tucky,"  continued  Mr.  Gollaher,  "he 
claimed  he  could  count  up  to  one  hundred 
and  he  said  he  didn't  believe  he'd  try  to 
learn  anything  more  about  figures.  Mis 
sus  Sarah  insisted  that  he  count  to  two 
hundred  by  saying  'one  hundred  one,  one 
hundred  two,  one  hundred  three'  and  so 
on,  but  he  told  her  that  he  could  count  one 


THIRST  FOR  LEARNING       93 

hundred  dollars,  and  that  he  didn't  expect 
ever  to  have  that  much  money. 

"  'But,  Austin,'  he  said  very  earnestly, 
'I  will  learn  to  read  and  then  I  am  going 
to  get  that  book  the  preacher  and  Mr. 
John  told  us  about — Robinson  Crusoe. 
Then,  too,'  he  said  with  that  lovely  ex 
pression  around  his  eyes,  'I  hope  some 
day  to  read  all  the  stories  about  Christo 
pher  Columbus  and  George  "Washington, 
and  about  England,  where  Missus  Sarah's 
husband  was  born.  Did  you  know,  Aus 
tin,'  Abe  asked,  'that  there  are  a  lot  of 
books  about  Virginia,  and  my  father  and 
all  of  his  people  came  from  there,  and  so 
did  my  mother,  and  Missus  Sarah  and  all 
of  her  folks.  So,  I  want  to  hurry  up  and 
learn  to  read  and  get  some  books  about 
Virginia.  That's  the  reason  I  can't  take 
much  time  to  study  figures ;  I  must  learn 
to  read.' 

"Abe  attended  a  school  over  there 
where  the  town  of  Athertonville  is  now 
located,"  said  Mr.  Gollaher.  "It  was  con- 


94   THE  BOYHOOD  OP  LINCOLN 

ducted  by  a  Monk  whose  name,  I  believe, 
was  Zack  Riley.*  Abe  always  said  lie 
went  for  one  term  (a  term  in  those  days 
was  two  months) ,  but  to  my  certain  knowl 
edge  he  was  not  there  more  than  ten  days. 
First  one  thing  and  then  another,  his  fa 
ther  being  one  of  them,  would  keep  him 
away.  Lots  of  times  Knob  Creek  was  so 
high  he  couldn't  get  across  it,  and  fre 
quently  his  mother's  illness  would  keep 
him  at  home.  Abe  could  not  be  persuaded 
to  leave  his  mother  if  her  illness  confined 
her  to  bed.  I  have  known  him  to  sit  in  the 
house  day  after  day  when  his  mother  was 
sick  because  he  was  afraid  she  might  want 
a  drink  of  water  or  something,  and  Abe 
thought  nobody  else  could  wait  on  her  in 
the  right  way.  He  loved  his  mother  more 
than  anything  else  in  the  world,  and  she 
loved  Abe,  too;  she  loved  him  so  much 
that  my  mother  used  to  say:  'Well, 
Nancy  thinks  she's  going  to  that  child 
when  she  dies.' 

•According  to  Joseph  H.  Barrett's  history  of  Lin 
coln  it  was  Zachariah  Riney. 


THIRST  FOR  LEARNING      95 

"Abe  attended  another  school,  over 
there  in  the  woods,  that  was  taught  by  a 
journeyman  teacher,*  but  the  results 
were  about  the  same.  He  always  said  he 
didn't  get  up  much  interest  because  he 
couldn't  be  there  every  day,  and  when  he 
missed  it  made  the  teacher  mad.  His 
most  interested  and  most  successful 
teacher  in  this  section  was  Mrs.  Sarah 
Hodgen,  and  when  she  and  Abe  finally 
got  the  men  of  the  neighborhood  to  build 
a  schoolhouse  over  near  Hodgen 's  Mill  he 
was  the  happiest  boy  in  the  world." 


The  latter  school  referred  to,  according  to  the 
same  authority,  was  taught  by  a  man  named  Caleb 
Hazel. 


CHAPTEE  XII 

THE  PARSON"  AND  THE  COONSKIN  CAP 

UNDER  a  big  maple  tree,  which,  stood  on 
a  smooth,  grassy  plat  of  ground,  at  the 
foot  of  a  knob,  a  platform  and  pulpit  had 
been  built  of  poplar  logs,  split  in  two  with 
a  whip-saw.  The  big  maple  dipped  to 
ward  the  knob  until  its  branches  laced 
with  the  limbs  of  the  trees  growing  on 
the  hillside.  In  front  of  it  was  a  grove  of 
many  smaller  trees,  whose  lower  limbs 
had  been  trimmed  by  the  pioneers  so  there 
would  be  no  need  for  a  sinner  to  duck 
when  he  started  to  the  altar. 

Directly;  facing  the  pulpit  was  a  long 
bench — the  mourners'  bench — built  upon 
stump-like  legs,  while  scattered  promiscu 
ously  through  the  grove  were  logs  and 
smoothed-of  f  stumps, — pews  of  the  mem- 

96 


THE  COONSKIN  CAP          97 

bers  of  the  Knob  Creek  congregation. 
This  ideal  spot  for  a  camp-meeting  was 
known  for  miles  around  as  the  "Church 
of  Maple  Trees." 

There  was  always  much  excitement 
among  the  pioneers  during  these  relig 
ious  revivals,  which  lasted  a  week;  one 
meeting  in  the  late  spring  and  one  in  the 
early  fall.  Other  interests  were  subordi 
nated  by  the  promoters  of  the  camp-meet 
ing,  and  all  became,  for  the  time  being,  la 
borers  in  the  Vineyard  of  the  Lord. 

For  at  least  a  week  beforehand,  the  par 
son  (a  journeyman  preacher)  would  visit 
among  the  pioneers  to  work  up  interest 
and  to  let  the  remoter  people  know  the 
date  of  the  meeting.  The  preacher  was 
paid  but  little  those  days,  but  he  was  be 
loved  and  respected;  welcomed  in  every 
home,  given  the  best  there  was  to  eat,  and 
furnished  a  horse  to  ride.  Indeed,  he  was 
a  hero,  and  the  people  followed  him,  be 
lieving  implicitly  in  him  and  in  his 
teachings. 


98   THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

When  the  camp-meeting  was  in  prog 
ress,  the  settlers  came  prepared  to  stay 
the  entire  week,  and  any  who  could  not 
find  shelter  in  the  homes  of  the  neighbors 
remained  in  the  woods  and  slept  beneath 
the  wide-spreading  trees  or  the  over 
hanging  cliffs. 

Mrs.  Lincoln  was  a  devoutly  religious 
woman  and  never  tired  trying  to  promote 
the  religious  welfare  of  the  community. 
Closely  associated  with  her  in  this  work 
were  Mrs.  Hodgen,  Mrs.  Gollaher  and 
Mrs.  Walters.  Thomas  Lincoln  was  not  so 
enthusiastic  as  his  wife,  but  he  attended 
the  meetings  and  often  became  deeply  in 
terested,  even  excited,  over  the  matter  of 
his  soul's  salvation.  At  such  times  he 
would  join  in  the  singing  and  shouting, 
and  otherwise  display  a  deeply  emotional 
spirit ;  but  he  would  soon  forget,  and  was 
most  of  the  time  looked  on  as  a 
"backslider." 

Not  that  he  was  irreligious  or  immoral. 
He  was  simply  indifferent.  Restlessness 


THE  COONSKIN  CAP          99 

was  Ms  pet  weakness.  He  had  the  wan 
dering  foot,  and  looking  for  other  locations 
for  a  home  was  his  hobby.  He  found 
many,  too,  in  different  parts  of  Kentucky 
and  Tennessee  and  Indiana,  and  was  for 
ever  threatening  to  move.  Home-hunting 
was  little  short  of  a  mania  with  him.  so 
much  so  that  at  times  he  entirely  forgot 
his  duty  to  his  family  in  his  desire  to  ex 
plore  new  regions.  Because  of  his  roving 
propensities  he  was  not  counted  as  one  of 
the  community's  substantial  citizens,  and 
the  sincerity  of  his  camp-meeting  conver 
sions  was  doubted  by  his  neighbors. 

But  his  wife,  the  mother  of  Abraham, 
kept  the  light  burning  in  the  little  cabin 
home.  The  worn  old  Bible,  the  only  book 
in  the  Lincoln  library,  was  her  refuge  and 
her  strength.  She  taught  Abraham  and 
his  sister  to  pray  and  they  all  made  brave 
efforts  to  sing.  Abraham,  during  his  mo 
ments  of  sadness,  for  even  as  a  lad  he  was 
touched  with  melancholy,  would  hum  the 
pioneers'  favorite  hymn,  The  Old  Ark's 


100  THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

A-moving,  and  every  night  before  he 
closed  his  eyes  he  breathed  a  simple 
prayer. 

A  camp-meeting  was  now  at  its  height 
in  the  Church  of  Maple  Trees.  It  was 
early  fall  and  the  leaves  were  yet  clinging 
to  their  boughs  though  some  of  them  in 
the  topmost  branches  were  turning  yel 
low,  giving  to  the  forest  church  a  vaulted 
arch  of  green  and  gold. 

Thomas  Lincoln  became  deeply  inter 
ested  in  this  particular  meeting  and  on 
the  second  day  he  sought  the  mourners' 
bench  and  on  the  third  day  prayed  aloud 
when  called  on  by  the  Reverend  Mr.  Gen 
try.  Mrs.  Lincoln  was  jubilant  over  the 
effect  Brother  Gentry's  sermons  were 
having  on  her  husband,  and  expressed  the 
belief  to  Mrs.  Gollaher  that  he  had  at  last 
found  permanent  favor  with  the  Lord. 

Abe  and  Austin,  as  the  "  official  her 
alds,"  were  sent  out  each  morning  with 
invitations  to  the  families  that  had  not  at 
tended  the  meetings,  to  come  and  enjoy 


THE  COONSKIN   CAP        101 

the  Godly  messages  of  the  evangelist. 
The  boys  rode  " double"  on  an  old  mule 
and  traveled  in  haste  since  they  were  re 
quired  to  be  on  the  grounds  in  time  for 
dinner  and  the  afternoon  services. 

"The  arrangement  to  send  us  out  in  the 
morning,"  said  Mr.  Gollaher,  "was  made, 
of  course,  because  our  parents  knew  we 
would  get  back  for  dinner,  and  so,  very 
naturally,  get  back  in  time  for  the  after 
noon  preaching.  Abe  was  always  a  big 
eater,  but  I  was  even  a  bigger  one,  and  af 
ter  we  had  jolted  around  over  these  hills 
for  four  or  five  hours,  we  were  good  and 
ready  to  have  our  physical  needs  attended 
to." 

"Austin,"  said  Abe,  as  he  tenderly  pat 
ted  his  dog,  "father  has  been  on  the 
6 mourners'  bench'  and  has  prayed  out 
loud  once  or  twice,  but  I  don't  know  so 
much  about  his  religion." 

"Why,  Abe,  what's  he  done  to  mal£e 
you  say  that?"  asked  Austin. 

"Kicked  Honey  last  night,  and  I  don't 


102  THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

believe  anybody  with  even  a  little  religion 
will  kick  a  dog  when  it  rubs  its  nose 
against  him  in  a  friendly  way.  That  was 
all  Honey  did;  just  put  his  nose  up 
against  father's  knee,  and  father  kicked 
him  on  his  twisted  leg.  I  haven't  been  on 
the  mourners'  bench,"  continued  Abe, 
"but  I  wouldn't  kick  anybody's  dog. 
"What  do  you  think  about  it,  Austin?" 

"Well,  I  don't  know;  maybe  your  fa 
ther  thinks  it's  no  harm  to  kick  a  dog; 
maybe  he  thinks  God  doesn't  like  dogs." 

"No,  surely  he  wouldn't  think  that," 
said  Abe  earnestly.  "He  would  be  a 
mighty  funny  God  if  He  didn't  like  a 
good  dog." 

On  the  fifth  day  of  the  meeting  a  goodly 
number  were  gathered  for  the  morning 
service  and  the  hour  for  the  sermon  had 
arrived,  but  the  preacher  had  not.  Noon 
came  and  still  no  parson.  There  was 
much  excitement,  much  speculation  as  to 
his  whereabouts,  and  Thomas  Gollaher 
and  Thomas  Lincoln  hurriedly  set  out  in 


THE  COONSKIN  CAP        103 

search  of  him,  lie  being  a  guest  in  the 
home  of  the  former. 

But  the  good  man  had  left  the  house 
alone,  as  was  his  custom,  to  stroll  through 
the  wilderness  and  commune  with  nature 
for  a  brief  season  before  expounding  the 
gospel.  On  this  particular  morning  he 
had  set  out  earlier  than  usual,  and  was 
seen  to  follow  the  path  down  to  Knob 
Creek,  to  cross  the  foot-log  and  disappear 
in  the  woods.  Earnest  and  systematic 
search  revealed  no  slightest  trace  of  him. 
His  disappearance  was  as  complete  as 
though  he  had  been  gathered  up  in  trail 
ing  clouds  of  glory.  For  a  long  time 
Brother  Gentry  and  his  unceremonious 
departure  was  the  subject  of  much  discus 
sion  ;  a  few  believed  him  an  impostor,  but 
the  faith  of  the  many  was  unshaken. 

Theories  without  end  were  advanced, 
but  the  one  generally  accepted  was  that 
he  had  received  a  "call"  to  other  fields 
and  had  left  neglecting  to  inform  the  con 
gregation  of  his  intention.  He  had  been 


104  THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

heard  to  say  that  these  calls  from  the 
Lord  often  came  to  him  unexpectedly  and 
that  he  obeyed  without  the  loss  of  so  much 
as  a  moment's  time. 

But  to  one  of  the  youthful  pioneers  the 
hasty  departure  of  the  preacher  brought 
sadness,  if  not  black  distrust.  Abraham's 
coonskin  cap,  the  one  that  Mrs.  Hodgen 
had  made  -for  him — his  best  Sunday-go- 
to-meeting  coonskin  cap — had  disap 
peared  contemporaneously  with  the 
parson. 

On  the  day  before,  it  seems,  while  the 
reverend  gentleman  was  crossing  Knob 
Creek,  a  sudden  gust  of  wind  blew  his  hat 
from  his  bald  head.  The  hat  was  caught 
in  the  swift  current  of  the  stream  and  car 
ried  far  beyond  any  human  reach.  Now, 
the  Lincoln  cabin  was  close  at  hand,  so  the 
parson  went  there  to  beg  protection  for 
his  head,  and  Abraham's  mother  gladly 
accommodated  him  with  Abraham's  coon 
skin  cap. 

"If  that  wasn't  stealing,  what  was  it?" 


THE  COONSKIISr  CAP        105 

Abe  inquired  of  Austin.  * '  And  I  don 't  be 
lieve  lie  got  any  call  from  the  Lord,  for  if 
he  had  the  Lord  would  have  told  him  to 
take  time  to  bring  my  cap  back  to  me,  or 
to  hang  it  on  a  pole  where  we  could  see  it 
when  we  passed.  God  doesn't  want  any 
body  preaching  for  Him  who  takes  caps 
or  anything  else  that  doesn't  belong  to 


'em." 


"But,  Abe,"  said  Austin,  "the  preacher 
is  baldheaded,  and  it  was  chilly  that  morn 
ing  and  he  might  have  taken  cold  if  he  had 
nothing  on  his  head." 

"That's  so,"  said  Abe,  "but  it  doesn't 
make  it  right  for  the  preacher  to  steal ;  he 
might  have  pulled  one  of  his  socks  down 
over  his  head.  Besides,  I  saw  him  slip 
some  walnuts  in  his  pocket  the  other  day; 
and  when  he  caught  sight  of  me  he  looked 
mighty  sheepish.  Of  course,  we  didn't 
care  how  many  nuts  he  took,  but  he  ought 
to  have  asked  for  them.  Don't  you  ever 
take  anything,  Austin,  that  doesn't  be 
long  to  you,  for  it  won't  do  you  any  good. 


106  THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

That  preacher's  sure  to  have  trouble  over 
that  cap.  It  might  even  turn  into  a  coon 
and  scratch  all  the  skin  off  his  bald 
head."  And  Abe's  wide  mouth  expanded 
into  a  grin,  and  Austin  roared  with 
laughter. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

ABRAHAM  AND  THE  CHURCH 

ABRAHAM  was  spending  the  night  with 
the  Hodgens.  He  had  said  his  prayers 
and  had  been  tucked  away  in  his  trundle 
bed,  a  bed  kept  especially  for  him.  Mrs. 
Hodgen  thought  him  asleep  until,  greatly 
to  her  surprise,  she  heard  him  get  up  and 
tiptoe  to  the  open  door,  where  he  stood 
looking  out  at  the  big  gloomy  trees,  over 
which  a  mellow  summer  moon  was  shin 
ing.  "Down  there  in  the  grove  would  be 
a  good  place  to  build  the  church,"  he 
whispered  to  himself,  "and  I  am  going  to 
help  the  men  cut  down  the  trees  and  fix 
the  logs." 

"What's  the  matter,  Abraham?"  asked 
Mrs.  Hodgen,  "can't  you  sleep?" 

107 


108  THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

"Yes,  Missus  Sarah,"  lie  answered, 
"but  before  I  go  to  sleep  I  want  to  prom 
ise  you  that  I'll  cut  down  some  trees  and 
shape  some  logs  for  the  church  you  want 
to  build.  I  reckon  I  could  cut  down  one  a 
day,  trim  it  and  get  it  ready.  If  the  men 
will  cut  down  two  trees  a  day,  it  wouldn't 
be  long  till  you'd  have  enough  logs  to 
build  the  church." 

"That  is  true,  my  boy,"  answered  Mrs. 
Hodgen,  "but  the  men  say  they  are  too 
busy  to  build  the  church.  They  have  been 
putting  me  off  for  a  long  time,  but  in  the 
morning  we'll  make  Mr.  John  promise  to 
ask  the  men  again  if  they  won't  get  the 
logs  ready. ' '  And  she  tucked  the  boy  once 
more  in  his  trundle  bed,  kissing  him  good 
night  and  thanking  him  for  his  promise 
of  help. 

That  little  whispered  speech  of  Abe's 
as  he  sat  in  the  open  door,  bathed  in  the 
summer  moonlight,  was  really  the  inspi 
ration  for  the  building  of  Hodgenville's 
first  church,  for  the  next  morning  Mr. 


THE  CHURCH  109 

John  promised  his  mother,  in  Abraham's 
presence,  that  he  would  see  that  her  dream 
of  a  " house  of  worship"  came  true. 
Young  Lincoln  was  very  happy,  not  be 
cause  a  church  then  meant  anything  to 
him,  but  because  Mrs.  Hodgen  was 
pleased.  Abraham  now  knew  the  church 
was  a  certainty,  because  Mr.  John  had 
promised,  and  Mr.  John  never  forgot  his 
promises,  or  failed  to  keep  his  word. 

Mrs.  Hodgen  never  faltered  in  her  ef 
forts  to  interest  the  pioneers  in  the  enter 
prise  so  dear  to  her  heart ;  indeed,  as  the 
days  passed,  she  became  more  enthusias 
tic,  more  determined,  and  though  she  gave 
a  building  site  near  the  mill,  yet  she  had 
much  trouble  in  getting  the  project 
started.  The  pioneers  were  busy  men  and 
then,  too,  most  of  them  believed  that  the 
wide-spreading  canopy  of  heaven  was  all 
the  house  of  worship  that  was  necessary — 
that  the  camp-meeting  ground  was 
sufficient. 

Acting  on  Abraham's  suggestion,  Mis- 


110  THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

sus  Sarah  went  to  the  mill  day  after  day 
and  talked  " church-building"  to  every 
man  who  came  there,  always  saying  that 
the  child,  Abraham  Lincoln,  was  going  to 
cut  down  one  small  tree  each  day  and 
shape  the  log  ready  for  the  builders. 
"And  surely,"  she  would  add,  "if  that 
boy  can  do  so  much  for  us — if  he  is  will 
ing  to  work  early  and  late — you  will  cer 
tainly  help."  In  this  manner,  Mrs.  Hod- 
gen  got  many  promises  and  the  church 
was  in  time  a  reality. 

"Missus  Sarah,"  said  Abraham,  "when 
the  church  is  finished  I  hope  that 
preacher  who  left  our  house  with  my 
coonskin  cap  on  his  head,  and  never  came 
back  with  it,  won't  come  here  to  preach. 
I  kindo'  believe  it  was  stealing  for  him  to 
go  away  with  my  cap,  and  I  wouldn't  like 
to  hear  him  preach,  because  I'd  feel  like 
he  wasn't  the  right  kind  of  a  man  to  tell 
people  what  God  wanted  them  to  do." 

"Now,  Abraham,"  admonished  Mrs. 
Hodgen,  "you  must  be  forgiving;  you 


THE  CHURCH  111 

must  try  to  feel  that  the  preacher  just  for 
got  to  return  your  cap  before  he  left  the 
neighborhood,  and  that  he  did  not  intend 
to  keep  it.  Then,  too,  my  boy,"  she  con 
tinued,  in  her  gentle  manner,  " don't  you 
know  the  preacher  was  bald,  and  the  day 
cool,  and  he  might  have  frozen  his  head5 
had  he  gone  away  bareheaded. ' ' 

" That's  so,"  answered  Abraham,  in  a 
solemn  meditative  way,  "and  I  reckon  his 
bald  head  would  have  got  a  little  cold ;  but 
do  you  know,  Missus  Sarah,  he  had  better 
mend  his  ways  or  his  bald  head  will  get 
mighty  hot  some  of  these  days.  I  saw 
him  doing  some  other  things  that  weren't 
right,  and  I  don't  believe  the  Lord  wants 
a  man  like  that  to  be  telling  the  people 
what's  right  and  what's  wrong.  Some 
time  he  might  preach  a  sermon  and  say  it 
was  all  right  to  take  caps  and  walnuts  and 
hickory;  nuts  without  asking  for  them." 

When  John  Hodgen  made  a  snare  for 
Abe,  the  boy  looked  at  it  soberly  and  then 


112  THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

threw  a  stick  against  the  trigger.  The 
sapling,  to  which  one  end  of  the  cord  was 
tied,  flew  up  with  great  force,  looping  the 
string  tightly  around  one  end  of  the  stick. 

"Now,"  said  Mr.  Hodgen,  "that  is  the 
way  you'll  catch  them.  .When  Mr.  Rab 
bit,  or  Mr.  Coon,  or  Mr.  Opossum  nibbles 
the  bait  he'll  be  caught,  and  won't  get 
loose  till  you  go  to  the  snare  the  next 
morning  and  take  the  cord  from  around 
his  neck." 

"Yes,  I  see,"  said  Abraham,  "but  that 
thing  will  choke  them  to  death,  and  they 
might  be  a  long  time  dying,  and  I  don't 
want  to  catch  them  that  way.  I'd  rather 
catch  them  in  traps,  so  I  could  turn  them 
loose  if  they  looked  very  pitiful.  I  have 
turned  lots  of  them  loose,"  he  added,  then 
smilingly:  "and  I  believe  they  thanked 
me  when  they  got  back  to  their  homes  in 
the  woods,  and  told  their  families  that  an 
ugly  boy  turned  them  loose,"  and  there 
was  a  twinkle  in  Abraham's  sober  eyes. 

"Now,  Mr.  John,"  continued  the  boy, 


THE  CHURCH  113 

"I  couldn't  sleep  at  night  if  I  set  a  snare 
like  that.  It's  not  fair  to  fool  rabbits  and 
'possums  and  things  by  offering  them 
something  to  eat  that's  going  to  kill  them 
almost  as  quick  as  they  touch  it.  That 
would  be  a  whole  lot  like  somebody  wrap 
ping  up  your  sore  toe  in  a  rag  with  rattle 
snake  poison  on  the  rag.  All  night  I'd  be 
thinking  of  something  choking  to  death 
out  in  the  woods.  When  Missus  Sarah 
gets  her  church  built  and  the  preachers 
come  and  preach,  maybe  they'll  get  some 
of  the  men  to  quit  killing  things  they 
don't  need.  Please,  Mr.  John,"  begged 
the  boy,  " don't  show  Austin  how  to  make 
snares;  if  he  knew,  he'd  have  them 
strangling  game  every  night." 

Mr.  Hodgen,  after  trying  vainly  to 
amuse  Abraham  with  the  snare,  the  bow 
and  arrow,  the  cross-bow  and  the  rifle,  de 
clared  he  did  not  believe  the  boy  would 
kill  anything  if  he  were  starving.  But  the 
miller  found  Abraham  very  much  alive  to 
the  things  that  interested  older  people. 


114  THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN    ' 

"Abraham's  mind  is  more  than  usual," 
Mr.  Hodgen  would  say,  "it  is  so  full  of  as 
tonishing  things  that  at  times  it's  un 
canny.  Why,  I  would  rather  listen  to  him 
talk  than  to  half  the  men  in  the  settle 
ment.  He  always  finds  something  new 
along  the  road  and  tells  me  about  it  every 
time  he  comes  to  the  mill." 

"When  Mrs.  Hodgen  asked  young  Pot 
tinger,  of  the  neighborhood,  to  help  cut 
the  logs  for  the  church,  telling  him  of 
Abe's  proposal,"  said  Mr.  Gollaher,  "his 
mother,  Mrs.  Mary  Pottinger,  overheard 
the  request  and  objected.  She  told  Mrs. 
Hodgen  that  she  was  afraid  of  the  Lin 
coln  boy ;  saying  that  she  believed  he  was 
sent  to  the  world  by  the  devil  to  do  some 
evil  thing;  that  his  mind  was  even 
brighter  than  her  husband's,  and  that  her 
husband  was  ' counted  a  smart  man.' 
When  Mrs.  Hodgen  called  her  attention 
to  Abraham's  ' wonderful  goodness,'  Mrs. 
Pottinger  threw  up  her  hands  and  ex 
claimed:  ' That's  one  of  the  tricks  of  the 


THE  CHURCH  115 

devil!'  When  pressed  to  tell  what  she 
thought  might  happen,  she  said  that  some 
day  the  devil  would  send  a  band  of  In 
dians  against  the  settlement,  and  use 
Abraham  Lincoln  as  his  instrument  to  ac 
complish  its  destruction. 

"But  Mrs.  Hodgen  predicted  a  great 
future  for  young  Abe.  She  believed  he 
would  become  a  preacher  and  deliver  his 
first  sermon  in  the  log  church  he  was  then 
trying  to  build,  and  that  he  would  ulti 
mately  become  a  great  and  famous  di 
vine,"  continued  Mr.  Gollaher.  "But 
Mr.  John  disagreed  with  his  mother,  con 
tending  that  Abe  would  'certainly  become 
a  great  judge.'  He  said  Abe's  inclination 
to  measure  well  before  delivering,  and  to 
consider  well  before  going  ahead,  fitted 
him  for  the  woolsack." 

"Teach  Abraham  all  you  can,"  was 
John  Hodgen 's  appeal  to  his  mother; 
"teach  him  to  read  and  to  write,  never 
mind  the  arithmetic;  figuring  will  nat 
urally  follow." 


116  THE  BOYHOOD  OP  LINCOLN 

"On  one  of  Ms  trips  to  Elizabethtown, 
Mr.  John  bought  a  volume  of  ^Esop's 
Fables,  and  when  Abe  and  I  made  our, 
next  visit  to  the  mill  he  brought  forth  the 
book  and  at  the  same  time  a  small  tra$ 
filled  with  the  prettiest  bullets  I  had  even 
seen,"  declared  Lincoln's  playmate. 
"  'Now,'  said  Mr.  John,  'I  have  a  present 
for  you  boys.  Here's  this  book  for  one  of 
you  and  these  bullets  for  the  other,  but  I 
can't  decide  which  to  give  you,  Abraham, 
or  which  to  give  Austin.'  'I  don't  want 
the  bullets,'  Abe  said  very  quickly,  and 
just  as  promptly  I  growled:  'I  don't 
want  the  book.'  'Then,'  said  Mr.  John, 
'the  question  is  easily  settled.'  And  he 
gave  Abe  JEsop's  Fables,  and  I  took  the 
bullets.  Well,  sir,  Abe  fairly  hugged 
that  book,  and  thanking  Mr.  John,  he 
said:  'Wouldn't  swap  it  for  a  cow  and 
calf.'  I  was  equally  pleased  with  the 
bright  new  bullets.  And  thus  it  was  all 
through  life,"  sighed  the  old  man,  "Abe 
kept  on  gathering  books  and  reading 
them,  and  I  kept  on  gathering  bullets  and 


THE  CHURCH  117 

shooting  them."  Then,  as  though  trying 
to  justify  his  life  in  the  woods  with  his 
gun,  he  said:  "But  I've  seen  the  day 
when  I  could  shoot  a  squirrel's  eyes  out 
every  time  I  touched  the  trigger  even  if 
he  was  on  the  highest  branch  of  the  tallest 
tree  in  these  hills. 

"Abe  was  afraid  to  take  the  book  home, 
lest  his  father,  who  still  had  no  patience 
with  book  learning,  would  find  it  and  de 
stroy  it.  So  Missus  Sarah  was  made  the 
custodian  of  these  wonderful  stories,  and 
she  read  them  and  reread  them  to  Abe  un 
til  he  could  repeat  many  of  them  word  for 
word,"  said  Mr.  Gollaher,  as  he  turned 
the  pages  of  the  old  Bible  he  held  in  his 
lap. 

"Abe  sharpened  his  ax  and  went  to 
work  like  an  experienced  woodsman,  fell 
ing  trees  for  the  church.  And  when  we 
reported  to  Missus  Sarah  that  we  had 
four  logs  ready,  she  gave  us  a  big ' spread' 
of  blackberry  jam  on  corn-bread," 
laughed  old  Austin  as  he  recalled  young 
'Austin  and  his  immortal  playmate. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

A  FKIENDLY  CONTEST 

KNOWING  that  ^Esop  now  awaited  him 
at  Missus  Sarah's,  Abe  had  many  reasons 
to  give  his  mother  for  extra  trips  to  the 
miU. 

"He  always  wanted  me  to  go  along," 
said  Mr.  Gollaher,  "and  whenever  mother 
would  let  me  I  accompanied  him,  but  I 
didn't  hear  many  of  the  fables  read,  be 
cause  the  woods  and  Nolynn  River  were 
too  attractive.  On  our  way  to  Hodgen 
Mill  one  day  Abe  was  suddenly  attacked 
with  the  old-fashioned  ' bellyache.'  'It's 
mother's  green  apple  pie,'  he  said,  'and  it 
feels  like  a  knife  was  ripping  through 
me. '  So  when  we  came  to  the  Stone  House 
we  stopped  and  asked  for  a  cup  of  hot 

118 


A  FKIENDLY  CONTEST      119 

water  with  some  red  pepper  in  it.  The 
tea  gave  Abe  relief  in  a  little  while  and 
we  were  about  to  leave  when  he  spied  a 
newspaper  lying  on  a  chair.  He  picked  it 
up,  examined  it  carefully,  and  seemed  so 
much  interested  that  the  old  woman  who 
fixed  the  tea  for  him  asked  him  if  he 
would  like  to  take  the  paper  along  and 
read  it.  Abe  very  quickly  answered  'Yes- 
sum,'  you  may  be  sure.  It  was  a  copy  of 
the  paper  printed  at  Bardstown  and  was 
several  weeks  old,  but  Abe  prized  it 
highly  and  guarded  it  very  closely." 

Since  it  was  necessary  to  pass  the  mill 
on  the  way  from  the  Lincoln  to  the  Hod- 
gen  home,  Abe,  Austin  and  Honey  always 
stopped  to  say  "Hi"  to  Mr.  John. 

"Upon  this  occasion,"  said  Mr.  Golla- 
her,  "a  youngster  called  Freckles  who 
was  loafing  around  the  mill  awaiting  the 
grinding  of  his  corn,  threw  a  stone  and 
hit  Abe's  crippled  dog.  Honey  yelped 
and  Abe  cried  out : 

"' Who  hit  my  dog?' 


120  THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

"  'Freckles,'  I  said. 

"'Why  did  you  do  that,  Freckles?' 
asked  Abe,  quicker  and  hotter  than  I  had 
ever  heard  him  speak  before* 

"  'Because  the  dog's  ugly  and  I  wanted 
to  hear  him  holler,'  replied  Freckles. 

"'Well,'  said  Abe,  'I  am  ugly  too. 
Next  time  you  want  to  hit  somebody  ugly, 
hit  me ;  I'll  know  why  you  hit  me ;  Honey 
doesn't.'  Then  Abe  walked  away  and  sat 
down  upon  a  sack  of  corn,  and  patted 
Honey.  When  Freckles  approached  him, 
Abe  asked:  'How  would  you  like  for 
your  father  to  slap  you,  when  you  didn't 
know  what  he  was  slapping  you  for? 
And  besides,'  he  continued,  'if  everything 
that's  ugly  ought  to  be  hit,  somebody 
would  be  hitting  you  most  of  the  time,  and 
maybe  lightning  might  strike  you  and  kill 
you.  You  are  uglier  than  Honey  and 
meaner  than  the  meanest  dog  I  know.' 

"That  kind  of  talk  from  Abe  surprised 
me,  but  I  was  mighty  glad  to  hear  it,  be 
cause  I  used  to  think  some  of  the  boys 


A  FRIENDLY  CONTEST      121 

tried  to  run  over  him.  I  wanted  to  see 
him  fight,  but  he  held  his  temper  and 
didn't  seem  to  mind  the  taunts  from  the 
lads  down  around  the  mill.  But  if  any 
body  mistreated  Honey,  Abe  would  show 
fight  quick  enough,  and  then  the  boys,  I 
noticed,  would  leave  him  and  his  dog 
alone.  He  had  a  funny  way  of  talking  to 
the  lads  whenever  he  meant  business," 
chuckled  Mr.  Gollaher.  "It  was  kind  of 
mild  and  yet  it  was  forceful.  And  when 
he  cut  loose  they  didn't  bother  him  again 
for  quite  a  while." 

John  Hodgen  called  Freckles  into  the 
mill  and  said  to  him :  "If  you  throw  any 
more  stones  at  Abraham  Lincoln's  dog, 
there's  going  to  be  trouble  around  here, 
and  I  am  going  to  stand  by  and  watch 
Abraham  give  you  a  good  whipping." 

"Abe  can't  do  it,"  Freckles  muttered. 
Well,  let's  see,"  said  Mr.  Hodgen. 

Now  this  isn't  to  be  a  fight;  but  a 
friendly  little  contest  to  see  which  is  the 
better  man. 


u 
u 


122  THE  BOYHOOD  OP  LINCOLN 

"Come  here,  Abe;  come  here,  Freck 
les,"  called  Mr.  John.  "Now,  Freckles, 
you  say  Abraham  can't  whip  you.  What 
do  you  say,  Abraham?" 

"I  don't  want  to  fight,"  answered  Lin 
coln  without  the  slightest  change  of  ex 
pression  in  his  sad  face. 

"But,  boys,"  said  Mr.  Hodgen,  "I  told 
you  this  was  not  to  be  a  fight,  but  just  a 
little  friendly  contest  to  see  which  one 
would  whip  if  a  sure-enough  fight  should 
ever  take  place.  Now,"  he  went  on,  "I 
want  to  see  which  one  can  lift  the  other 
the  easiest,  by  taking  hold  at  the  nape  of 
the  neck  and  the  seat  of  the  trousers." 

"Ready!"  announced  both  boys. 

"Turn  around,  Freckles;  take  hold, 
Abe;  now  lift!"  the  miller  commanded. 

With  ease  Abraham  held  Freckles 
aloft. 

"Now,"  said  Mr.  Hodgen,  "see  if  you 
can  shake  him." 

And  Abraham  shook  Freckles  till  his 
teeth  chattered. 


A  FRIENDLY  CONTEST      123 

When  Freckles  tried  to  lift  Abraham 
in  the  same  way,  he  failed  utterly. 

"Now,  then,  Freckles,  you  surely  don't 
think  you  can  whip  Abe,  do  you?"  asked 
Mr.  Hodgen. 

"No,  sir,  I  can't  whip  him  and  I  won't 
throw  any  more  rocks  at  his  dog,"  was 
Freckles'  honest  acknowledgment  and 
voluntary  promise. 

"During  the  excitement,"  said  Mr.  Gol- 
laher,  "I  thought  Abe  had  forgotten 
about  those  fables,  but  I  was  mistaken. 
Just  as  soon  as  he  let  go  of  Freckles  he 
said:  'Mr.  John,  I'm  going  down  to  your 
house  to  get  Missus  Sarah  to  read  to  me 
out  of  the  book. '  As  it  was  about  dinner 
time,  Mr.  John  went  with  us. 

"  *  Where's  your  newspaper?'  I  asked, 
thinking  maybe  Abe  had  forgotten  it  and 
left  it  at  the  mill,  but  he  had  it  folded  up 
nicely,  sticking  between  the  ear-laps  of  his 
cap. 

"When  we  reached  the  Hodgen  home 
we  found  dinner  waiting  for  us,  but  Abe 


124  THE  BOYHOOD  OP  LINCOLN 

had  to  show  Missus  Sarah  that  old  paper 
before  eating.  After  we  had  finished, 
she  examined  it  more  closely,  and  found 
in  it  a  small  notice  of  the  sale  of  some  ne 
groes  at  Bardstown  the  month  before. 
Then  Missus  Sarah  said  to  Mr.  John: 
4  You  might  have  gone  to  Bardstown  and 
bought  one  of  those  negro  men  had  you 
known  of  the  sale.  The  work  on  the  farm 
is  too  heavy  for  the  four  men  and  the  boy 
we  now  have,  and  we  must  buy  another 
negro.' 

"  'I  have  heard/  said  Abe  to  Missus 
Sarah,  'that  some  people  don't  treat  their 
negroes  right.  You  know  those  travelers 
— the  man  and  his  wife — who  came 
through  here  not  long  ago,  told  us  that 
they  knew  an  old  man  who  owned 
lots  of  slaves,  and  that  every  time  one  of 
them  went  blind,  he  soon  died ;  and  every 
body  believed  the  old  man  killed  them  to 
keep  from  having  to  feed  them.  And 
they  said,  too/  Abe  went  on,  'that  he  was 
awful  mean  to  them;  that  he  sometimes 


!£  FEIENDLY  CONTEST      125 

whipped  them  until  they  bled.  I  think 
people  ought  to  be  good  to  them,  because, 
I  reckon,  they  are  human  beings  just  like 
we  are.' 

"That  was  Abraham  Lincoln's  first 
speech  in  behalf  of  the  negro,  and  it  was 
made  not  against  slavery,  of  course,  but 
against  cruelty,  just  as  he  protested 
against  cruelty  oi  all  kinds,"  said  Mr. 
Gollaher.  "We  didn't  know  much  about 
slavery  here  in  our  neighborhood  during 
the  period  the  Lincolns  lived  here.  We 
were  most  all  too  poor  to  own  slaves. 
Mrs.  Hodgen  and  her  sons  owned  a  few, 
and  so  did  the  LaRues,  but  they  were  good 
to  their  negroes,  and  the  subject  of  cruelty 
to  slaves  was  not  discussed  in  this  section 
at  that  time.'7 


CHAPTER  XV 

A  GOOD  TIME  UP  THERE 

THEY  had  finished  the  meal,  and  Abe> 
Mr.  John  and  Austin  were  sitting  under 
the  shade  of  a  tree  in  the  yard,  while  Mis 
sus  Sarah  was  superintending  the  clear 
ing  of  the  table.  In  a  little  while  she 
would  be  there  to  read  to  Abraham  from 
his  favorite  ^Esop.  Mr.  John  had 
propped  himself  against  a  tree  and  had 
bitten  off  a  cheek-full  of  tobacco.  "Abe," 
he  began,  "you  and  Austin  will  tell  me  the 
truth  if  I  ask  you  a  question,  won't  you?" 

"Yes,  Mr.  John,"  both  answered  at 
once. 

"Have  either  of  you  ever  taken  a  chew 
of  tobacco?" 

"Once,"  answered  Austin. 

126 


A  GOOD  TIME  UP  THERE    127 

"Well,  did  it  make  you  sick,  Austin?" 
asked  Mr.  Hodgen. 

"No,  sir,"  was  the  emphatic  answer. 

"If  it  didn't  make  you  sick  you  will 
very  likely  be  a  user  of  tobacco  the  rest  of 
your  life,"  said  Mr.  Hodgen. 

"No,  sir,  it  never  does  make  me  sick," 
Austin  assured  him. 

"But  you  just  told  me  that  you  had 
taken  but  one  chew,"  said  Mr.  Hodgen, 
"and  now  you  tell  me  that  it  never  does 
make  you  sick,  which  answer  indicates 
that  you  have  taken  more  than  one  chew." 

"Yes,  sir,  I  was  just  going  to  tell  you 
that  I  have  taken  more  than  one  chew,  be 
cause  I  have  been  having  the  toothache, 
and  mother  told  me  I  could  put  tobacco 
around  my  gums  to  ease  the  pain.  It's 
mighty  good  for  that,"  Austin  explained. 

"Now,  Abe,  how  about  you?"  Mr.  Hod 
gen  asked. 

"No,  sir,  never,  Mr.  John,"  Abraham 
very  earnestly  answered. 

"Do  you  think  you'd  like  to  learn?" 


128  THE  BOYHOOD  OP  LINCOLN 
"I  might." 


4 Why  do  you  think  you  might?" 

"Because  they  say  it  will  keep  teeth 
from  getting  rotten  and  falling  out." 

"I  have  heard  that,  too,"  said  Mr.  Hod- 
gen,  "but  I  don't  take  much  stock  in  such 
a  claim.  Did  you  boys  know  there  isn't  any 
kind  of  animal  that  will  chew  tobacco?" 

"Grandfather  had  a  billy-goat  a  long 
time  ago,"  Austin  replied,  "that  chewed 
up  tobacco  stems  and  swallowed  them,  but 
it  soon  killed  him,  or  something  killed 
him,  and  grandfather  said  he  thought  it 
was  the  tobacco." 

"Well,"  Mr.  Hodgen  didn't  smile,  "if 
tobacco  kills  goats,  it  certainly  would  kill 
boys,  so  both  of  you  had  better  leave  it 
alone." 

"I  don't  like  it,"  said  Abraham.  "I 
don't  believe  I'll  ever  try  it." 

But  Missus  Sarah  now  interrupted. 
She  had  the  ^Esop  book  in  her  hands,  and 
Abe  straightway  forgot  tobacco  and  ev 
erything  else. 


A  GOOD  TIME  UP  THERE     129 

"  While  motlier  reads  to  Abraham  you 
and  I,  Austin,  will  go  feed  the  pigs,  then 
we  '11  all  go  back  to  the  mill,  for  you  boys 
must  start  home  early." 

"I'll  tell  you  what  I  am  going  to  do," 
announced  Abraham  a  little  later,  as  they 
were  on  their  way  to  the  mill,  "I  am  going 
to  buy  you  out  one  of  these  days.  I  am 
going  away  for  about  twenty-five  years, 
and  then  I  am  coming  back  to  buy  the 
mill,  and  live  here  the  rest  of  my  life  and 
grind  corn  for  the  people,  just  like  you 
are  grinding  it,  Mr.  John.  You  would  be 
old  then,  and  you  and  Missus  Sarah  could 
live  with  us." 

"In  twenty-five  years,  my  boy,  I  may 
not  be  here,  and  Missus  Sarah  will  surely 
be  on  the  other  side  of  the  Great  River. 
Twenty-five  years  is  a  long  time  and  I 
may  be  way  up  yonder  where  the  stars 
shine.  Do  you  think  I  am  good  enough 
to  go  to  Heaven?"  he  asked,  smiling. 

Young  Abraham  looked  up  at  Mr.  John 


130  THE  BOYHOOD  OP  LINCOLN 

and  there  were  tears  in  his  eyes,  but  he 
made  no  reply.  He  knew  none  was 
necessary. 

"We  strolled  on  through  the  meadow  in 
silence,"  said  Mr.  Gollaher.  "Abe  was 
absorbed  and  obviously  meditating.  That 
reference  to  crossing  the  Great  River  had 
saddened  him  and  given  him  food  for 
thought.  To  my  surprise,  and  to  the  sur 
prise  of  Mr.  Hodgen,  he  finally  said:  'I 
wish  that  woman  at  the  Stone  House 
hadn't  given  me  that  old  newspaper;  then 
I  wouldn't  have  thought  about  that  old 
man  killing  his  blind  slaves. '  Then,  turn 
ing  to  Mr.  John,  Abe  said:  'If  I  were  in 
Heaven  I'd  want  God  to  take  you,  and 
mother  and  father  and  sister  Sarah,  and 
Missus  Sarah  right  away,  too,  so  we  could 
have  a  good  time  up  there  together. 
When  God  wants  a  sure-enough  friend  in 
Heaven  He'll  send  an  angel  after  you,  Mr. 
John.' 

"Well,  sir,"  continued  Mr.  Gollaher, 
"I  have  never  seen  anybody,  from  that 


A  GOOD  TIME  UP  THERE    131 

day  to  this,  appreciate  anything  more 
than  Mr.  Hodgen  appreciated  that  re 
mark  from  Abe.  He  stopped  there  in  the 
meadow  and  put  his  big  strong  arms 
around  the  boy  and  hugged  him.  His 
voice  was  too  husky  to  talk,  I  guess. 

' ' After  a  time,  he  smiled  and  asked: 
'What  about  Austin?  Would  you  have 
him  brought  up  to  Heaven  right  away,  or 
would  you  let  him  stay  here  for  a  while 
longer?' 

"  'I  might  ask  God  to  bring  him  up 
there,  and  I  might  not,'  answered  Abe. 
'If  he  wanted  to  come  I  guess  I  would  ask 
God  to  let  him  in,  but  if  he  wanted  to  stay 
here  I  would  leave  him  alone  until  I 
thought  he  was  killing  too  many  things  of 
the  woods,  then  I  would  beg  God  to  take 
him — whether  Austin  wanted  to  come  or 
not.'  " 


CHAPTER  XVI 

THE  NICKNAME 

THE  old  gum-spring  at  the  foot  of  the 
hill — that  hill  upon  which  stood  the  log 
grist  mill  of  John  Hodgen — was  a  favorite 
spot  with  the  thirsty  traveler  who  passed 
that  way.  Growing  around  the  spring 
and  bending  over  it  was  a  cluster  of  tall 
willows,  which  protected  it  from  the  sum 
mer  sun,  and  beneath  the  willows  was 
a  bench  made  of  a  split  log,  upon  which 
the  weary  might  rest  while  he  quenched 
his  thirst.  Upon  every  tree,  a  gourd  was 
hooked  over  the  stob  of  a  limb.  The 
spring  was  walled  around  with  smooth 
gray  rocks  and  over  it,  upon  four  cedar 
posts,  was  a  rough  moss-covered  roof. 

The  spring  was  John  Hodgen 's  pride. 

132 


THE  NICKNAME  133 

It  was  his  standing  invitation  to  all  who 
came  near  to  drink  and  rest.  Many  peo 
ple  in  the  neighborhood — -more  than  a 
century  ago — pronounced  the  water  heal 
ing,  and  came  with  jugs  and  carried  it 
away  to  their  homes.  The  spring  is  still 
there,  but  it  has  no  care-taker  and  is  now 
no  more  than  any  other  spring  along 
Nolynn  River,  except  it  is  generally 
known  that  the  child  Lincoln  played 
around  it  and  drank  of  its  water. 

The  miller  permitted  no  rowdyism 
around  the  spring,  and  dabbling  in  it  was 
positively  forbidden.  John  Hodgen  had 
worked  to  make  the  place  inviting,  and  he 
insisted  that  all  visitors  "  behave  them 
selves"  while  enjoying  his  gum-spring's 
refreshing  hospitality.  Old  man  Kastor 
— one  of  the  wits  of  the  neighborhood — 
used  to  lift  his  hat  and  bow  his  head  be 
fore  taking  a  drink,  saying :  "This  water 
is  worth  praying  for." 

The  boys  who  played  around  the  old 
spring  over  a  century  ago  all  had  their, 


134  THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

nicknames,  even  as  the  boys  of  to-day. 
Jimmie  Ashcraf t,  for  example,  was  called 
Freckles  for  obvious  reasons,  and  Austin 
Gollaher  was  known  as  Buster,  because  lie 
was  big  and  fat  and  strong. 

Four  or  five  boys  of  the  woods — "corn- 
f etchers  and  meal-toters"  Mr.  Hodgen 
called  them — were  grouped  around  the 
spring  one  hot  summer  day.  Among  them 
was  Abraham  Lincoln.  He  was  standing 
close  to  the  little  log  trough  through  which 
the  spring  water  trickled  into  its  well- 
like  rock  walls.  Old  man  Pottinger  rode 
up,  alighted  from  his  mule,  took  a  gourd 
from  a  stob  and  said:  " Stand  aside, 
'High,'  I  want  a  drink."  He  was  speak 
ing  to  Abraham  Lincoln.  The  boys  snig 
gered  and  laughed — Abraham  had  been 
nicknamed  and  the  youngsters  were 
elated.  Mr.  Pottinger  explained  that  the 
name  was  appropriate  for  two  reasons: 
one,  that  Abe  was  extremely  high  for  his 
age,  and  the  other,  that  he  met  everybody 
with  the  salutation" Hi!"  "So,  Abe,"  he 


THE  NICKNAME  135 

said  good-naturedly,  "we'll  just  call  you 
High  after  this." 

The  boys  began  at  once  to  use  the  new 
name  every  time  they  spoke  to  young  Lin 
coln,  and  they  made  it  convenient  to  speak 
frequently,  since  they  could  easily  see  he 
did  not  like  the  appellation.  He  made  no 
protest,  but  he  walked  away  and  sat  down 
upon  a  rock  and  covered  his  face  with  his 
hands. 

"Abe,"  said  Austin,  as  the  two  climbed 
the  hill  to  the  old  mill,  "I  haven't  teased 
you  and  I'm  not  going  to,  but  you 
oughtn't  get  mad  at  the  boys  for  calling 
you  High;  that'll  just  make  them  bother 
you  that  much  more,  until  we'll  have  to 
fight  them,  and  we  don't  want  to  do  that. " 

Abe  made  no  reply  to  Austin's  advice 
further  than  to  say  he  wasn't  mad,  but 
when  the  two  reached  the  mill  he  told  Mr. 
Hodgen  that  he  had  been  nicknamed 
High,  and  that  he  did  not  like  it,  adding 
with  a  shamefaced  smile:  "I  know  I'm 
high,  and  my  legs  and  arms  are  outland- 


136  THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

ish,  and  I'm  bigger  than  any  boy  my  age, 
but  I  don't  want  to  be  called  High." 

"Why,  my  dear  boy,"  exclaimed  the 
miller,  "the  meaning  of  high  is  lofty,  big, 
great !  You  ought  to  be  pleased.  You  are 
tall  and  big,  of  course,  but  the  name  does 
not  apply  to  your  height;  it  applies  to 
your  character,  to  your  goodness  of  heart, 
and  to  your  superiority  over  other  boys. 
Don't  you  like  the  big,  tall,  straight  trees 
of  the  woods  better  than  the  small,  knotty, 
little  ones  ?  You  are  a  big,  tall,  straight 
tree,  Abraham,  and  you  tower  above  the 
boys  who  tease  you;  they  are  scrub  oaks 
and  sassafras  saplings  when  compared 
with  you." 

"But,  Mr.  John,  I  don't  want  to  be 
called  High ;  I  am  ashamed  of  myself  be 
cause  I  am  so  high,"  Abraham  answered 
in  his  quiet  emphatic  way. 

"Surely,  Abraham,"  said  Mr.  Hodgen, 
"you  didn't  leave  the  spring  because  you 
were  afraid  of  those  boys !  Did  you  ?  "  he 
asked  quietly. 


THE  NICKNAME  137j 

"  No,  sir,  Mr.  John,  I  am  not  afraid  of 
all  of  them,"  Abraham  said  simply  with 
out  animation. 

"Then,  take  the  bucket,  go  down  to  the 
spring  and  get  some  fresh  water  for  me," 
and  with  that  Mr.  Hodgen  handed  Abra 
ham  the  water  bucket. 

Slowly  the  boy  walked  down  the  hill  to 
the  spring.  His  tormentors  were  still 
there.  Austin  started  to  follow,  but  the 
miller  called  him  back.  Before  Abe 
reached  the  foot  of  the  hill  there  was  a 
shout  of  "Here  comes  High,"  but  Abra 
ham  moved  on  with  his  customary  long 
indifferent  swing. 

Mr.  Hodgen  smilingly  watched  from 
the  mill  window,  and  Austin  stood  by  him 
greatly  agitated. 

Now,  Abraham  was  anything  but  a 
fighter;  he  would  not  even  quarrel.  He 
talked  so  very  little  that  there  was  no  op 
portunity  for  dispute  with  his  boy  asso 
ciates,  and,  while  attempts  had  been  made 
to  involve  him  in  boyish  difficulties,  he 


138  THE  BOYHOOD  OP  LINCOLN 

did  no  more  than  look  into  the  faces  of 
his  tormentors  and  walk  away. 

A  youngster  by  the  name  of  Carl  Vitti- 
toe  approached  Abraham  as  he  neared  the 
spring,  the  bucket  swinging  from  his  arm. 
"High,"  said  young  Vittitoe,  "I  have 
dropped  my  knife  into  the  spring ;  the  wa 
ter  's  too  deep  for  me  to  get  it,  but  your 
arms  are  so  long  you  can  reach  it  easy 
enough." 

Abraham  put  the  bucket  under  the  wa 
ter  spout,  "caught"  it  full  and  started 
back  toward  the  mill  with  that  same  indif 
ferent,  characteristic  swing.  The  Vitti 
toe  boy  grabbed  him  by  the  arm  and 
ripped  a  big  hole  in  his  shirt-sleeve.  Very 
quietly  Abe  set  the  bucket  down,  and  just 
as  quietly  he  wound  his  long  arms  around 
young  Vittitoe,  carried  him  to  the  spring 
and  soused  him,  headforemost,  into  the 
water.  When  he  brought  the  boy  up, 
dripping  and  sputtering,  he  was  holding 
his  knife  tightly  in  his  wet  hand. 

Then  Abraham  said  to  the  boy:    "Carl, 


THE  NICKNAME  139 

when  father  has  a  piece  of  timber  that  is 
too  short,  he  splices  it,  so  I  had  to  splice 
my  arm  by  using  yours."  And  he  picked 
up  his  bucket  and  went  to  the  mill,  never 
once  looking  back. 

"See  here,  Abraham,"  said  Mr.  Hod- 
gen,  feigning  anger,  "don't  you  know  I 
don't  want  you  to  play  in  that  spring? 
Didn't  I  see  you  dipping  Carl  in  the 
water?" 

"Yes,  sir,  but  I  wasn't  playing,"  Abra 
ham  answered. 

"Oh!  you  were  fighting,  were  you?" 

"No,  sir,  I  wasn't  fighting;  I  was  help 
ing  Carl  get  his  knife  out  of  the  spring." 

After  this  episode  the  boys  called  him 
Abe. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

THE  EXPLORERS 

AUSTIN  GOLLAHER'S  grandfather  had 
gone  with  a  raft  of  pelts  to  Louisville,  and 
Austin  was  staying  with  his  grandmother 
farther  up  among  the  Knob  Creek  hills. 
Abraham  was  lonely — pathetically  lonely 
with  Austin  away.  His  only  diversion 
was  to  wander  over  the  hills  and  through 
the  woods,  with  Honey  following  at  his 
heels.  It  was  now  spring,  and  since  Abra 
ham  could  handle  a  hoe  or  a  spade 
fairly  well,  much  of  his  time  was  spent  in 
the  fields. 

Austin  away,  Abraham  and  Honey 
made  the  weekly  trip  to  the  mill  alone. 
Saturday  was  always  the  busiest  "  grind 
ing  day"  and  there  was  a  rush  among  the 

140 


THE  EXPLORERS  141 

children  of  the  pioneers  "to  get  there 
first,"  for  they  knew  that  the  bag  of  corn 
to  reach  the  mill  first  went  to  the  hopper 
first;  that  rule  of  taking  them  as  they 
came  was  always  closely  observed. 

"Everywhere  Abraham  goes  Honey 
goes,  and  I'm  glad  of  it,"  said  Mrs.  Lin 
coln  to  Mrs.  Gollaher  one  morning  as  the 
boy  and  the  dog  set  off  for  the  mill.  "He 
may  fool  away  more  time  by  having 
Honey  with  him,  but  I  believe  he  is  some 
protection;  at  least,  I'm  not  so  uneasy 
when  I  know  the  two  are  together." 

When  Abraham  dropped  his  sack  of 
corn  upon  the  mill  floor,  Mr.  Hodgen 
said :  "Late  again ;  look  at  the  bags  ahead 
of  you;  it  will  be  sundown  before  your 
turn  comes,  and  I'll  have  to  take  you  home 
again.  I  can't  let  you  go  through  the 
dark  woods  alone." 

"I  am  not  afraid,  Mr.  John,  and 
neither  is  Honey,"  answered  the  boy. 

"But,  Abraham,"  said  Mr.  Hodgen, 
somewhat  out  of  humor,  "whjr  do  you  fool 


142  THE  BOYHOOD  OP  LINCOLN 

your  time  away?  You  must  get  here 
earlier.  You  have  seen  these  hills  and 
hollows  hundreds  of  times  and  I  can't  un 
derstand  what  you  find  to  keep  you  so 
long  on  the  road." 

"Well,  Mr.  John,"  began  Abraham, 
"Honey  got  a  'possum  in  a  hollow  stump, 
and  I  couldn't  get  him  to  leave  it,  and  I 
couldn't  leave  Honey.  I  wanted  to  get 
here  early  to-day,  but  I  just  couldn't 
make  Honey  hurry." 

Late  in  the  afternoon  Abraham's  meal 
was  sacked,  and  Mr.  Hodgen  blew  three 
times  on  a  cane-pole  whistle.  That  was 
Abe's  signal,  and  he  knew  it  well  and  al 
ways  listened  for  it.  But  this  time  he  did 
not  reply.  Again  and  again  the  whistle 
was  blown,  but  there  was  no  response. 
Inquiry  among  the  boys  developed  the 
fact  that  Abe  had  not  been  seen  for  two 
or  three  hours ;  that  then  he  was  sitting  on 
the  roots  of  a  big  tree,  looking  out  upon 
the  mill  pond. 

Standing  upon  a  high  bank,  alarmed 


THE  EXPLORERS  143 

and  apprehensive,  John  Hodgen  halloed 
and  gazed  down  into  the  green  waters  of 
Nolynn  River  as  though  to  arouse  Abe, 
who  could  not  swim,  from  the  bottom  of 
the  stream.  He  called  at  the  top  of  his 
voice:  " Abraham!  Abraham!  Abraham!" 
Out  in  the  middle  of  the  river  a  lazy 
muskrat  lounged,  and  John  Hodgen, 
thinking  in  his  excitement  that  it  was  the 
top  of  the  boy's  coonskin  cap,  plunged 
into  the  water,  diving  where  the  muskrat 
was  lounging. 

From  a  messenger  sent  to  his  home,  he 
learned  that  Abraham  had  been  there  but 
had  left  three  hours  before,  presumably 
to  go  to  the  mill.  For  an  hour  he  contin 
ued  the  search  and  then  he  sent  a  man  to 
the  Lincoln  cabin  to  notify  Abraham's 
parents  and  the  Gollahers.  They  were 
asked  to  report  to  the  mill,  where  they 
would  decide  upon  a  plan  of  action. 

With  anxious  faces,  pale  in  the  light  of 
their  pine-knot  torches,  they  soon  gath 
ered  at  the  mill  where  many  pioneers  and 


144  THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

their  families,  having  heard  that  Thomas 
Lincoln's  boy  Abraham  was  lost,  had  pre 
ceded  them.  Mr.  Lincoln  was  greatly  ex 
cited.  Thomas  Gollaher  and  Abraham 
Enlow  tried  to  encourage  him  though 
sadly  apprehensive  themselves. 

Mrs.  Lincoln  rubbed  her  poor  white 
hands  and  prayed.  "Mr.  Hodgen,"  she 
asked,  "have  you  seen  the  dog?  "Was 
Honey  with  Abraham  when  he  came  to 
the  mill?" 

"Yes,  the  dog  was  with  him." 

"Then,"  she  said,  "both  have  been 
drowned,  or  have  been  stolen  by  Indians 
who  sometimes  pass  over  their  old  trails 
on  their  way  north.  If  Honey  is  alive,  he 
will  come  home,  or  back  to  the  mill." 

Preparations  were  made  for  an  all- 
night  hunt,  but  none  knew  where  to  begin 
the  search.  They  could  not  drag  the  river 
at  night;  so  it  was  finally  decided  to  go 
first  through  the  woods  surrounding  the 
Hodgen  home. 

Mrs.  Lincoln  stood  under  the  shed-like 


THE  EXPLORERS  145 

porch  of  the  house,  where  they  stopped  a 
moment  while  Mr.  John  got  into  some  dry 
clothes,  and  was  looking  out  into  the  som 
ber  depths  of  the  grove  which  seemed  to 
hover  over  her  like  a  hideous  monster, 
ready  to  strike  her  down  with  its  big 
hands.  Somewhere  in  the  depths  of  the 
forest  she  saw,  in  her  imagination,  an  In 
dian  war-dance,  and  her  thoughts  turned 
back  to  the  time  when  she,  a  little  girl,  was 
stolen  by  the  savages.  Then,  awakened 
suddenly  from  her  terrifying  reverie,  she 
cried  out  with  all  her  strength:  "Here's 
Honey!  Here's  Honey!" 

From  somewhere  out  of  the  night  the 
dog  came.  He  whined  at  her  feet  and 
looked  up  appealingly  into  the  eyes  of 
first  one  and  then  another,  until,  finding 
Mr.  John,  he  jumped  upon  the  miller  and 
barked  again  and  again,  squarely  in  his 
face. 

"Gather  your  torches!"  John  Hodgen 
commanded,  "and  well  follow  where  the 
dog  leads." 


146  THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

With  a  yelp,  the  panting  Honey  circled 
the  corner  of  the  house  and  dashed 
through  the  garden,  barking  as  he  ran. 
Everybody,  as  everybody  usually  does  in 
such  circumstances,  expected  the  worst; 
expected  the  dog  to  lead  them  to  Abra 
ham's  mangled  body,  though  many  a  si 
lent  prayer  went  up  for  the  boy's  safety. 

To  the  north  and  west  of  the  Hodgen 
house  Nolynn  Eiver  circled,  and  it  was 
straight  to  the  river  that  Honey  led  the 
searching  party. 

"I  know  where  the  boy  is!"  shouted 
John  Hodgen  joyously.  "Why  didn't  I 
think  of  it  before  ?  He's  lost  in  that  con 
founded  cave ;  we'll  soon  find  him  and  I'll 
bet  he's  not  hurt  a  bit.  But  I  can't  imag 
ine  what  the  boy  meant  by  going  into  that 
hole;  I  have  never  known  him  to  do  a 
thing  like  that  before." 

When  they  reached  the  cave,  John  Hod 
gen  commanded  every  one  to  be  quiet 
while  he  blew  his  whistle  three  times. 
There  was  a  moment's  anxious  silence. 


THE  EXPLORERS  147 

Then  from  somewhere  back  in  the  cave 
came  a  faint  voice : 

"Here  I  am,  but  I'm  fastened!" 

"I'll  get  you  out,"  cried  Mr.  John. 
"Your  meal  is  ready  and  you  ought  to 
have  been  on  your  way  home  a  long  time 
ago." 

When  he  at  last  reached  Abe  it  was  to 
find  him  tightly  wedged  between  two 
large  rocks,  and  when  the  miller  pulled 
Abe  groaned,  because  as  he  afterward 
said;  "Some  of  my  hide  was  coming  off." 

"It's  a  mystery,"  declared  Mr.  Hod- 
gen,  "how  the  boy  ever  got  himself  in  such 
a  fix.  For  a  while  I  thought  we  were  go 
ing  to  need  sledges  to  break  the  rock,  but 
when  I  found  it  would  be  impossible  to 
strike  hard  enough  to  do  that  in  those 
close  quarters,  I  just  decided  to  pull  Abra 
ham  out,  even  if  I  had  to  skin  him." 

Young  Lincoln  was  very  much  sur 
prised  to  find  the  large  searching  party 
at  the  mouth  of  the  cave.  He  had  been 
busy  trying  to  squeeze  through  and 


148  THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

thought  little  about  the  length  of  time  he 
had  been  in  the  cave.  After  he  had  been 
hugged  by  his  mother  and  Missus  Sarah 
it  was  his  father's  time  to  be  a  little  "af 
fectionate."  But  John  Hodgen  inter 
ceded,  saying : 

"Now,  Tom,  Abraham  is  my  prisoner, 
and  I  want  you  to  give  me  your  word  that 
you  won't  whip  the  boy  when  you  get  him 
home,  that  you  won 't  even  scold  him.  The 
experience  he  has  passed  through  is  les 
son  enough.  He'll  never  go  into  that  cave 
again." 

"I  came  home  from  my  grandfather's 
late  in  the  afternoon  of  the  day  Abe  was 
lost,"  said  Mr.  Gollaher,  "but  I  could  not 
go  with  the  searching  party  because  they 
made  me  stay  with  my  little  sister.  But 
I  told  mother  they  needn't  have  any  fear, 
that  Abe  would  turn  up  safe  and  sound." 

The  next  day  when  the  boys  were  dis 
cussing  the  adventure,  Abe  said:  "Now, 
you  see,  Austin,  Honey  has  paid  me  back 
for  mending  his  broken  leg." 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

THE  FOX  AND  THE  TRAP 

"THERE  is  no  use  to  worry  or  be  sad  and 
cry,"  said  Abraham  one  day  as  he  wiped 
the  tears  from  his  eyes  first  with  one  and 
then  the  other  of  his  shirt-sleeves.  "It's 
foolish,  but  I  just  can't  help  it,  Austin — I 
just  can't  help  it  when  I  get  to  feeling  like 
the  little  Brownfield  children  felt  when 
their  mother  died. ' ' 

"What  you  crying  about?  What  you 
talking  about?"  asked  Austin 
impatiently. 

6 '  Nothing  much, ' '  Abe  answered.  "  I  'm 
just  down  in  the  mouth,  like  mother  says 
she  used  to  get  before  we  moved  over  here 
from  the  Cave  Spring  Farm." 

"Tell  me  what's  the  matter,  Abe,"  said 
Austin  kindly. 

149 


150  THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

"Well,  I  reckon  I'm  crying  because  fa 
ther  keeps  on  talking  about  moving  to 
'  Indian  Anner,'  or  somewhere  a  long 
ways  from  here,  and  I  don't  want  to  go 
and  neither  does  mother.  [And  I'm  afraid 
he  won't  let  me  take  Honey.  Then  I  never 
will  be  happy.  I  believe  Honey  knows 
father  doesn't  want  him  around,  and  that 
mother  and  I  are  worried  about  some 
thing,  because  when  we  talk  about  moving 
he  just  looks  up  at  us  for  a  minute  or  two, 
then  kind  o '  whines  and  goes  off  and  curls 
up  in  a  corner.  Of  course,  I  know  if  we 
go  and  I  have  to  leave  Honey  here  you 
will  treat  him  all  right,  but  he  would  be 
awful  lonesome,  because  he  loves  me  more 
than  anybody  knows." 

"But,  Abe,"  said  Austin,  "you  have 
been  sad  about  one  thing  and  another  ever 
since  you  were  a  baby.  Mother  says  you 
looked  worried  the  day  after  you  were 
born.  She  says  you  are  now  as  big  as  a 
fourteen-year-old  boy,  and  that  you 
oughtn't  to  cry  so  much.  Why,  she  said 


THE  FOX  AND  THE  TKAP    151 

she  caught  you  crying  yesterday  when  she 
chopped  a  chicken's  head  off,  so's  we 
could  have  it  for  sister's  birthday  dinner. 
You  ate  plenty  of  the  chicken  just  the 
same,"  Austin  added  laughingly. 

" People  just  can't  know  my  feelings, 
and  I  reckon  they  never  will.  I  wasn't 
crying  about  the  chicken ;  I  was  crying  be 
cause  I  felt  bad  about  moving  away  from 
here.  Of  course,  after  the  chicken  was 
dead  and  cooked,"  continued  Abe,  "I  ate 
some  of  it." 

Perhaps  the  hardest  whipping  Abia- 
ham  ever  received  from  his  father  was  for 
liberating  a  red  fox  from  a  trap.  Mr. 
Lincoln  had  not  been  well  for  several  days 
and  his  wife  insisted  that  he  take  Abra 
ham  with  him  when  he  went  to  visit  his 
traps,  scattered  through  the  hills  and 
along  the  banks  of  Knob  Creek.  Thomas 
Lincoln  was  an  expert  trapper,  and  upon 
this  particular  occasion  was  unusually 
successful.  He  had  caught  a  coon  and  a 
fox,  and  had  about  finished  skinning 


152  THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

them,  when  Abraham,  who  had  gone  ahead 
to  the  next  trap  and  discovered  it  held  a 
fine  red  fox,  deliberately  lifted  the  trap 
door  and  invited  the  fox  to  enjoy  his 
freedom. 

"Why  did  you  do  that?"  demanded  Mr. 
Lincoln  as  he  stepped  up  to  Abraham, 
who  stood  in  pleasant  contemplation  of 
the  open  trap  door. 

"Father,"  replied  the  boy  in  his  most 
appealing  tones,  "wasn't  two  animals 
enough  for  one  day?  Just  think  how 
happy  that  old  red  fox  is,  to  be  out  in  the 
woods  again." 

But  Mr.  Lincoln  didn't  see  it  that  way, 
and  gave  Abraham  a  cuff  on  the  side  of 
the  head,  and  when  they  got  home  a  sound 
whipping,  over  the  protest  of  Mrs.  Lin 
coln.  After  quiet  was  restored  Mrs.  Lin 
coln  reproved  Abraham  in  that  gentle, 
sweet  way  of  hers,  and  warned  him  that 
he  must  never  be  guilty  of  such  a  thing 
again. 


THE  FOX  AND  THE  TRAP    153 

"But,  mother,  I  just  couldn't  help  it," 
he  said.  "I  knew  it  wasn't  right — I  just 
couldn't  help  it,  and  I  reckon  I'd  have 
done  it  even  had  I  thought  father  would 
have  skinned  me  like  he  did  the  fox  and 
the  coon  he  caught.  I'm  mighty  sorry  I 
displeased  father,  but  I'm  glad  that  fox 
is  back  in  the  woods  with  its  family." 

Abraham  had,  a  number  of  times  be 
fore,  turned  loose  his  father's  "catches," 
greatly  to  Austin's  disgust,  who  threat 
ened  to  tell  on  him  if  he  didn't  stop  it. 
The  two  boys  got  into  an  argument  over 
the  right  and  wrong  of  the  matter  and 
the  question  was  finally  left  to  Mrs.  Gol- 
laher  for  settlement.  She  very  promptly 
agreed  with  Austin  that  Abe  was  in  the 
wrong,  and  said:  "Tell  me,  Abraham, 
why  do  you  do  such  foolish  things'?" 

"Because,"  the  boy  replied,  "we  have 
no  right  to  more  than  we  need.  There 
ain't  no  use  in  killing  those  animals 
and  birds;  and  I  don't  like  to  see  them 


154  THE  BOYHOOD  OP  LINCOLN 

suffer.     That  is  my  reason  for  letting 
them  out." 

But  after  this,  Abraham  never  mo 
lested  his  father's  traps,  though  he  wasn't 
convinced  that  it  was  right  or  legitimate 
to  catch  more  than  was  actually  needed. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

THE  GOAT  AND  THE  COAT 

IN  THE  yard  of  the  Hodgen  home  be 
neath  the  great  boughs  of  walnut  and 
hickory  trees,  was  a  crudely  constructed 
table,  surrounded  by  benches  made  of 
split  logs.  It  was  ' l  designed ' '  and  erected 
by  John  Hodgen  for  one  purpose  only: 
to  bear  the  feast  that  the  miller  annually 
spread  for  his  friends,  who  were  invited 
from  far  and  near  to  come,  eat  and  be 
neighborly. 

On  the  third  Saturday  in  July,  the  Lin- 
coins,  the  Gollahers,  the  Enlows,  the 
Brownfields,  the  Walters,  the  Kirkpat- 
ricks,  the  LaRues  and  many  others  were 
expected  to  gather  for  the  banquet  with 
out  formal  invitation,  and  to  make  merry 

155 


156  THE  BOYHOOD  OP  LINCOLN 

with  their  friends  and  neighbors.  The 
day  became  generally  known  as  the  "Hod- 
gen-Dinner-Day";  the  people  kept  it  in 
mind  and  the  attendance  grew  larger  each 
year. 

It  was  at  one  of  these  Hodgen  dinners, 
where  the  community's  needs  were  often 
discussed,  that  it  was  decided  to  build  a 
schoolhouse  and  a  church.  Pledges  were 
made  not  in  writing,  for  a  man's  word 
given  at  John  Hodgen 's  table  was  never 
broken.  The  church  and  schoolhouse 
were  built,  and  Mrs.  Hodgen  saw  her 
dream  fulfilled.  Then  finally  a  town  was 
"laid  off"  and  named  Hodgen  ville,  in 
honor  of  Robert  Hodgen. 

"Right  there  where  the  old  brick 
clerk's  office  stands,"  said  Mr.  Gollaher, 
"in  front  of  the  court-house,  at  the  foot 
of  the  hill,  I  saw  Abe's  dog,  Honey,  have 
a  fight  with  a  coon.  I  poked  the  coon  out 
of  a  hollow  tree  and  Honey  grabbed  him — 
grabbed  him  by  the  throat  and  killed 


THE  GOAT  AND  THE  COAT  157 

him.*  When  I  came  up  to  the  mill,  two 
hundred  yards  away,  dragging  the  coon 
after  me,  Abe  looked  at  Honey  and  Honey 
looked  at  Abe,  then  Abe  said:  'You 
didn't  have  to  do  it,  Honey;  you  didn't 
have  to  kill  that  coon.'  " 

The  dinner  was  on  in  earnest ;  the  table 
piled  high  with  venison,  turkey,  a  young 
pig  and  numerous  "side  dishes."  Every 
body  was  happy.  Abe  and  Austin  were 
eating  from  the  top  of  a  stump,  and,  like 
the  grown-ups  at  the  big  table,  were  dis 
cussing  the  needs  of  the  community.  Aus 
tin  wanted  a  gunsmith  to  move  into  the 
neighborhood,  while  Abe  wanted  a  school 
teacher,  and  there  was  a  rather  warm  dis 
cussion  as  to  which  would  be  the  more 
valuable  acquisition. 

A  billy-goat  was  grazing  in  the  yard. 
He  was  one  of  John  Hodgen's  pets.  In 
fact,  he  was  petted  and  made  over  by  ev- 

*A  Lincoln  monument  has  been  erected  where  those 
old  buildings  stood — upon  the  spot  where  Austin  and 
Honey  caught  the  coon  in  the  hollow  tree. 


158  THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

erybody  whose  sense  of  smell  was  not  too 
acute.  Abraham  was  fond  of  the  goat,  so 
fond,  indeed,  that  his  mother  made  him, 
on  one  occasion,  go  for  a  full  day  in  noth 
ing  but  his  long-tailed  shirt  until  she 
could  wash  and  dry  his  trousers.  Abra 
ham  had  only  one  pair  of  trousers  and 
when  his  mother,  once  each  month, 
" freshened"  them  in  Knob  Creek,  he  was 
forced  to  wear  a  long  shirt,  or  apron,  un 
til  the  cleansing  ceremony  was  over.* 

Old  Mr.  Kirkpatrick,  one  of  the  regular 
guests  at  the  annual  Hodgen  dinner,  was 
a  very  dignified  and  impressive  individ 
ual,  even  in  the  matter  of  dress.  He  was 
the  owner  of  a  coat,  fashioned  somewhat 
after  the  style  of  the  more  modern  Prince 
Albert,  which  he  had  brought  with  him 
from  Virginia  when  he  moved  into  the 
community  several  years  before  and 
which  he  had  guarded  jealously  for  some 
thing  like  a  quarter  of  a  century.  Mr. 

'Long  shirts,  or  aprons,  were  worn  by  boys  in 
those  days  and  it  was  not  unusual  during  the  summer 
to  meet  a  boy  upon  the  highway  in  his  shirt-tail. 


THE  GOAT  AND  THE  COAT  159 

Kirkpatrick  never  donned  the  famous 
garment  except  upon  a  state  occasion 
such  as  the  Hodgen  dinner,  or  when  he 
was  expected  to  take  some  prominent  part 
in  the  camp-meeting  services. 

The  day  was  hot  and  all  the  pioneers  ex 
cept  Mr.  Kirkpatrick  were  in  their  shirt 
sleeves.  He  was  sweltering  in  the  historic 
coat,  buttoned  tightly  to  the  neck.  After 
much  persuasion,  his  wife  succeeded  in 
getting  him  to  remove  it,  when  she  care 
fully  folded  the  " garment  of  state"  and 
placed  it  in  the  low  forks  of  a  small  tree. 

The  school  and  church  were  under  dis 
cussion,  as  was  also  a  project  to  improve 
the  roads  to  Bardstown  and  Elizabeth- 
town,  and  Mr.  Kirkpatrick  had  become  so 
deeply  interested  in  the  welfare  speeches 
that,  although  the  dinner  was  over,  he  had 
forgotten  he  was  in  his  shirt-sleeves  and 
was  not  in  the  least  embarrassed  because 
of  his  undignified  appearance.  The  meet 
ing  was  drawing  to  a  close ;  some  of  the 
far-distant  visitors  had  already  departed. 


160  THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

"Wife,"  commanded  Mr.  Kirkpatrick, 
"bring  my  coat  and  we  will  be  going." 

There  was  a  smothered  scream  from 
Mrs.  Kirkpatrick;  she  seemed  about  to 
swoon.  The  billy-goat  had  feasted  on  the 
tail  of  Mr.  Kirkpatrick 's  coat,  had,  in 
fact,  chewed  it  off  almost  to  the  buttons 
at  the  waistband.  To  say  that  the  old  gen 
tleman  was  disturbed  but  lightly  ex 
presses  it.  He  was  ruined,  heart-broken, 
he  actually  sobbed  and  then  and  there 
made  a  solemn  vow  never  again  to  try  to 
"fix  himself  up  to  look  like  a  gentleman" ; 
that  thenceforth  he  would  dress  as  the 
common  herd  dressed.  lAjad  he  kept  his 
word.  He  became  a  sort  of  backwoods 
"raggedy  man,"  uncouth  and  unkempt. 

Mr.  Hodgen  and  his  mother  were  cha 
grined  over  the  ungentlemanly  behavior 
of  the  goat,  and  the  miller  energetically 
applied  the  lash. 

"What  are  you  doing  that  for?"  asked 
Abraham  with  some  show  of  excitement, 
"Why,  Mr.  John,  don't  you  know  the  goat 


THE  GOAT  AND  THE  COAT  161 

thought  he  had  as  much  right  to  eat  Mr. 
Kirkpatrick's  coat-tail  as  Mr.  Kirkpat- 
rick  had  to  eat  the  pig  you  had  on  the 
table?" 

4 'You  must  get  rid  of  that  goat,"  inter 
rupted  Mrs.  Hodgen. 

"Take  him,  Abraham,"  said  Mr.  Hod- 
gen,  "he  will  carry  your  corn  to  the  mill 
and  your  meal  back  home." 

Thus  through  the  misfortune  of  Mr. 
Kirkpatrick,  Abraham  Lincoln  became 
the  owner  of  a  billy-goat — a  piece  of  prop 
erty  he  had  long  coveted. 

"It  seems  to  me,"  said  Thomas  Lincoln, 
"that  Abraham  has  too  many  pets.  He 
has  a  dog  and  a  coon,  and  now  the  goat." 

"Let  him  have  it,"  said  Mr.  Hodgen. 
"It  won't  be  in  the  way,  and  you  haven't 
a  long-tail  coat,  Tom." 

"That's  true,"  replied  Mr.  Lincoln, 
"but  if  that  goat  should  form  an  appetite 
for  trousers  and  eat  up  my  only  pair  I'd 
be  in  a  bad  fix." 

Abraham  did  not  speak  while  the  dis- 


162  THE  BOYHOOD  OP  LINCOLN 

cussion  between  his  father  and  Mr.  Hod- 
gen  was  going  on,  but  when  it  was  finally 
settled  that  he  could  accept  the  gift  he 
said:  "I'm  mighty  glad  he's  mine,  and 
I  don't  think  father  will  mind  the  goat 
much  when  he  gets  used  to  him ;  all  ani 
mals,  even  people,  have  a  funny  smell.  A 
horse  may  not  like  something  about  a 
man,  but  just  suppose  he'd  try  to  throw 
the  man  every  time  he  rode  him.  It's 
best  for  men  and  animals  not  to  notice 
things  they  don't  like  in  each  other." 

"It  was  a  big  job,"  said  Mr.  Gollaher, 
"to  take  the  goat  home  that  afternoon. 
He  did  lots  of  cutting  up,  and  was  some 
times  inclined  to  use  his  head  in  urging 
his  objection  to  the  change  of  residence. 
To  the  surprise  of  both  Abe  and  myself, 
Mr.  Lincoln  helped  us  when  Billy  became 
too  unruly.  However,  at  one  time  during 
the  trip  home  I  thought  the  jig  was  up. 
Mr.  Lincoln  had  stooped  over  to  tie  his 
shoe,  and  the  goat,  breaking  loose  from 
Abe,  made  a  center  drive.  Well,  it  was 


THE  GOAT  AND  THE  COAT  163 

funny;  Mrs.  Lincoln  laughed  and  I  got 
behind  a  tree  and  fairly  screamed.  But 
Abe  looked  as  solemn  as  a  judge.  He  was 
too  badly  scared  to  laugh ;  he  thought  the 
goat's  doom  was  at  hand.  But  to  our  sur 
prise  and  gratification,  Mr.  Lincoln  be 
gan  to  smile,  then  he  said:  'I  have  de 
cided  to  try  to  keep  from  getting  mad 
over  small  matters.' 

"Abe  and  ISvere  lagging  behind  coax 
ing  the  goat,  and  I  had  begun  to  wish  that 
he  hadn't  eaten  the  tail  off  of  Mr.  Kirk- 
patrick's  coat. 

"  '  Austin,  I  believe  father  did  get  a  lit 
tle  religion  during  camp-meeting,'  said 
Abe.  'He  must  or  he'd  have  kicked  Billy 
all  the  way  back  to  Mr.  John's.  I  was 
scared.  Do  you  think  he  smells  bad?' 
Abraham  asked  dryly. 

"  'Well,  I  reckon  he  does,'  I  answered. 
'But  mother  says  goats  keep  away  certain 
kinds  of  sickness  from  folks  and  that 
horses  and  mules  never  get  sick  if  a  goat 
stays  in  the  field  with  them.'  " 


164  THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

For  several  days  the  boys  were  puzzled 
over  Mr.  Lincoln's  friendliness  toward 
Billy;  lie  was  seen  several  times  to  pat 
him  on  the  head,  and  never  once  did  he  of 
fer  to  kick  him.  But  it  soon  developed 
that  somebody  had  told  Mr.  Lincoln  that 
it  was  good  luck  to  own  a  goat.  Now,  Abra 
ham's  father  was  not  super-supersti 
tious,  but  he  evidently  believed  it  worth 
while  to  be  a  little  courteous  toward  the 
goat,  hoping  that  Billy  might  be  the 
means  of  helping  him  over  some  of  life's 
rough  places. 


CHAPTER  XX 

THE  RESCUE 

THE  Rolling  Fork,  a  tempestuous  little 
river,  separated  LaRue  from  Nelson 
County.  It  was  a  most  dangerous  stream 
and  numbered  its  victims  by  the  hun 
dreds.  Before  the  bridge-building  era, 
sign-boards  at  every  ford  warned  the 
traveler  not  to  try  to  cross  over  if  the  wa 
ter  was  colored  with  mud.  Those  who 
failed  to  heed  often  paid  for  their 
stubbornness. 

Thomas  Lincoln  was  made  overseer  of 
that  part  of  the  ridge-road  which  led  from 
Hodgen's  Mill  to  the  Rolling  Fork,  a  dis 
tance  of  eight  or  ten  miles.  He  was  en 
thusiastic  over  the  honor  bestowed  upon 
him  by  the  Hardin  County  Court  and 
spent  much  of  his  time  riding  a  small 
165 


166  THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

mule  along  the  road,  mapping  out  in  his 
mind  methods  of  improvement.  Late  one 
evening  he  came  home  drenched,  muddy 
and  highly  excited,  and  announced  that  he 
had  lost  his  mule  and  pretty  nearly  his 
own  life.  He  had  attempted  to  ford  the 
river;  the  mule,  a  small  one,  could  not 
carry  his  rider,  and  in  a  few  moments, 
went  down.  Mr.  Lincoln  was  hurled  to 
the  opposite  side  of  the  river,  where  he 
seized  the  overhanging  limb  of  a  small 
tree  and  pulled  himself  ashore.  So  out 
raged  was  he  that  he  threatened  to  sue 
Hardin  County  for  the  loss  of  the  mule, 
but  when  convinced  that  such  a  suit  would 
be  futile,  because  he  had  no  business  on 
the  Nelson  County  side  of  the  river,  he 
dropped  the  matter  and  resigned  as  over 
seer  of  the  road.  The  loss  of  the  mule  was 
a  severe  one,  since  it  was  the  only  work 
animal  Mr.  Lincoln  possessed. 

On  one  occasion  Abraham  and  Austin 
Gollaher,  with  their  fathers  and  one  or 


THE  RESCUE  167 

two  neighbors,  walked  four  miles  to  the 
Rolling  Fork  to  see  the  high  waters  rush 
ing  over  the  lowlands  and  tearing  through 
the  valleys  like  a  yellow  snake. 

"Austin,"  Abe  said  thoughtfully,  "that 
water  acts  like  something  has  made  it 
mad,  and  it  is  taking  its  spite  out  on  the 
trees  and  rocks  and  hills.  I  call  it  the 
'Mad  River.'  "  Then  he  turned  his  eyes 
away  from  the  muddy  terrifying  water  to 
the  pleasanter  sight  of  the  quiet  valleys 
that  had  not  yet  been  inundated. 

"Look,  father,  look  down  yonder!''  he 
suddenly  exclaimed,  tugging  at  his  fa 
ther's  coat  sleeve.  "There's  a  mule  down 
there  with  something  on  its  back,  and  I 
don't  see  any  man^with  it." 

"You  are  right,"  said  Mr.  Lincoln;  and 
the  party  of  sight-seers  hurried  to  the  foot 
of  the  hill,  forgetting  the  river  in  their 
eagerness  to  investigate  the  mystery  of 
the  mule. 

A  sack  strapped  to  its  back  contained 
some  pans  and  cups  and  a  few  small  tools. 


168  THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

The  pioneers  were  puzzled  but  at  the  same 
time  convinced  that  a  traveler  had  been 
caught  in  the  current  of  the  river  and  had 
perished.  It  was  decided  that  the  mule 
should  become  the  property  of  Thomas 
Lincoln,  if  the  owner  could  not  be  found, 
because  it  was  first  seen  by  Abraham. 
As  Mr.  Lincoln  needed  a  mule,  he  was 
much  elated  over  what  he  considered  his 
good  fortune  and  exclaimed:  "The  river 
took  my  mule  from  me,  now  it  brings  me 
another.  God  has  been  good  to  me  during 
the  past  year." 

"But,  father,"  Abraham  said  in  his 
quiet  way,  "God  didn't  have  anything  to 
do  with  your  getting  the  mule,  because  the 
man  who  owned  it  must  have  lost  his  life 
in  the  river." 

Mr.  Lincoln  did  not  like  this  reminder 
that  he  had  gained  the  mule  at  the  cost  of 
a  human  life  and  was  about  to  reprimand 
Ms  son,  but  Mr,  Gollaher  averred  that  as 
Abe  had  found  the  mule  he  had  a  right  to 
express  himself  on  the  subject. 


THE  RESCUE  169 

"Be  quiet  a  minute,"  exclaimed 
Brownfield,  one  of  the  now  homeward 
bound  party;  "I  heard  somebody 
calling." 

"Help!"  came  a  cry  from  the  woods. 

"Shout  again!"  was  the  answer  from  a 
half  dozen  throats,  and  following  the  di 
rection  of  the  sound,  the  pioneers  soon 
came  upon  a  man  propped  against  a  tree. 
His  clothing  was  wet  and  muddy  and 
torn,  and  his  face  was  gaunt  from  hunger, 
but  the  sight  of  kindly  people  around  him 
seemed  to  revive  him  and  he  said  in  a  low 
husky  voice : 

"My  name  is  Jonathan  Keith;  I  was 
caught  in  the  current  of  the  stream  day 
before  yesterday,  in  the  afternoon,  and  I 
have  been  in  the  forest  ever  since  without 
food  or  shelter.  I  reckon  my  companion 
and  his  mule  were  drowned." 

He  was  informed  that  the  mule  had 
been  found,  but  that  there  was  no  sign  of 
his  rider.  The  unfortunate  man  then  ex 
plained  that  he  and  his  friend  Wilson, 


170  THE  BOYHOOD  OP  LINCOLN 

both  of  North  Carolina,  were  prospecting, 
and  that  when  they  came  to  the  river  they 
attempted  to  ride  the  mule  across,  one  be 
hind  the  other,  but  that  hardly  were  they 
in  the  water  than  they  were  caught  in  a 
swift  undercurrent  and  hurled  to  what 
seemed  certain  death.  Mr.  Keith  said 
that  he  fought  the  river  and  its  whirlpools 
until  he  reached  the  bank  and  pulled  him 
self  out,  but  that  his  companion  and  the 
mule  went  down. 

"Then,"  said  Thomas  Lincoln,  "maybe 
this  ain't  his  mule." 

"Was  the  mule  bareback,  or  did  he  have 
something  strapped  to  him?"  asked  Mr. 
Gollaher. 

"He  had  a  sack  with  some  cups  and 
pans  and  some  small  tools  in  it,  strapped 
to  his  back,"  was  the  answer. 

"Then,"  said  Mr.  Gollaher,  "the  mule 
we  found  was  the  property  of  your  com 
panion,  and  in  case  of  his  death  it  should, 
in  my  opinion,  fall  to  you,  if  not  claimed 
by  relatives  of  Mr.  Wilson." 


THE  RESCUE  171 

To  this  Mr.  Lincoln  very  readily 
agreed,  and  the  unfortunate  stranger  was 
assisted  to  the  Lincoln  home  where  he  was 
told  he  might  remain  until  a  search  could 
be  made  for  the  lost  companion.  Several 
days  later,  the  body  was  found  in  the 
prongs  of  a  small  tree  two  miles  from  the 
ford  where  he  met  death. 

4 'Stay  right  here  with  me  during  the 
winter,  Mr.  Keith,  and  help  me  with  my 
traps,"  invited  Mr.  Lincoln,  "and  I  will 
give  you  a  share.  And,"  he  continued, 
"if  you  will  stay  with  me  through  the 
summer  and  use  the  mule  in  cultivating 
the  crop,  I  will  give  you  half." 

Keith  agreed,  and  so  became  a  fixture 
in  the  community.  Indeed,  he  never  left 
it.  But  Jonathan  Keith  was  not  success 
ful  as  a  farmer ;  he  preferred  to  make  bas 
kets  of  willow  and  buckets  of  cedar  and  to 
do  odd  jobs  of  tinkering  here  and  there. 
He  and  Abraham  became  good  friends, 
for  he  too  believed  that  the  unnecessary 
slaughter  of  game  was  all  wrong,  and  was 


172  THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

of  the  opinion  that  every  boy  should  learn 
to  read  and  write. 

"Mr.  Keith  was  a  mighty  good  man," 
said  Mr.  Gollaher,  "he  was  patient  and 
kind,  and  all  of  the  children  in  our  com 
munity  liked  him.  He  taught  Abe  and  me 
how  to  make  small  willow  baskets,  and  one 
time  we  sent  six  or  eight  of  them  to 
Bardstown  and  swapped  them  for  some 
fishing  hooks  and  lines." 


CHAPTER  XXI 

HONEY'S  OLD  MASTER 

WITHIN"  a  dozen  feet  of  them  mumbling 
to  himself  and  peeping  mysteriously  from 
behind  a  tree  stood  a  little  man,  pinched 
of  face  and  stoop-shouldered,  frightful  to 
look  upon.  His  yellow,  shaggy,  dog-like 
hair  fell  over  his  eyes  and  ears,  and  there 
was  a  scar  half  circling  from  the  corner 
of  his  left  eye  to  his  chin. 

The  stranger's  presence  was  inexplain- 
able ;  it  seemed  as  if  he  must  have  sprung 
from  a  hole  in  the  ground,  and  Abe  and 
Austin  were  both  somewhat  startled.  The 
hair  on  Honey's  back  bristled;  his  mouth 
curled,  and  he  growled  through  set  teeth, 
ready  for  a  battle  royal.  Instinct  warned 
him  that  he  faced  an  enemy, 

"Honey,  behave  your  self  V7  com- 
173 


174  THE  BOYHOOD  OP  LINCOLN 

manded  Abe  when  he  had  recovered  from 
the  first  surprise.  But  Honey  only 
growled  the  more  fiercely.  Abe  put  his 
arm  around  the  dog's  neck  and  tried  to 
quiet  him,  but  Honey  was  not  so  easily 
appeased;  he  had  fight  in  him  and  Abe 
had  to  cling  tightly  to  keep  him  from 
springing  on  the  stranger. 

The  ugly,  dirty,  little  man  seemed  be 
wildered,  but  he  spoke  to  the  dog  and 
snapped  his  fingers  at  him  in  an  effort 
to  make  friends,  though  there  was  no  in 
clination  on  the  part  of  Honey  to  be 
friendly. 

"Go  away,  or  he  will  tear  you  to 
pieces,"  warned  Austin;  but  the  man  did 
not  move. 

"Where  did  you  get  that  dog?"  But 
before  Abe  or  Austin  could  answer  he  con 
tinued  :  "I  believe  on  my  soul  it 's  my  dog 
Whistle,  come  back  to  life.  Whistle,  don't 
you  know  me?  Don't  you  know  your  old 
master?  Come  to  me,  Whistle;  I  want 
you.  I  want  you  to  forgive  me. " 


HONEY'S  OLD  MASTER      175 

But  Honey  only  snapped  and  growled 
the  louder. 

"  Where 'd  you  get  the  dog?  Where 'd 
you  get  my  Whistle?"  the  little  man  in 
quired  pathetically. 

Abe  and  Austin  were  too  astonished  to 
answer;  they  were  quite  convinced  now 
that  the  man  was  crazy.  Finally  he  re 
peated  the  question,  and  Abe  replied : 

"No,  sir,  this  is  not  your  dog;  he  is  my 
dog.  I  found  him  in  the  road  with  his  leg 
broken,  and  I  fixed  his  leg  and  nursed 
him  till  he  got  well.  He's  my  dog,  and  no 
body  can  take  him  from  me." 

"Exactly,  exactly,"  mumbled  the  little 
man.  "I  know  now  Whistle  was  not  killed. 
I  thought  he  was  dead  when  I  saw  him  at 
the  foot  of  the  cliff  with  blood  running 
from  his  mouth,  and  I  went  away  and 
left  him.  I  want  him  back ;  he  is  my  dog, ' ' 
the  old  fellow  whined. 

"How  did  Honey  get  hurt?" 

"Well,"  came  the  shamefaced  answer, 
"I  got  mad  at  him  because  he  wouldn't 


176  THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

mind  me,  and  I  kicked  him  with  my  heavy 
shoe  and  he  rolled  over  the  cliff,  and  when 
I  looked  down  I  thought  he  was  dead. 
And  I  felt  sorry  for  him,  and  went  away 
and  left  him  there." 

"Then  there  came  into  Abe's  face  a 
terrifying  expression,"  said  Mr.  Golla- 
her.  "It  wasn't  anger;  it  was  righteous 
wrath,  I  suppose ;  I  don't  know  how  to  de 
scribe  it.  But  when  Abe  opened  his 
mouth  and  spoke,  I  knew  there  was  fight 
and  defiance  in  every  word. 

"  'If  you  try  to  take  Honey  away  from 
me,  I'll  make  him  tear  you  up,'  he  said. 
'I'll  make  him  grab  you  by  the  throat. 
Let's  see  you  take  him,'  and  there  was  a 
blazing  light  in  his  eyes.  *I  dare  you  to 
try  to  put  your  hands  on  him  1  Here  he 
is,  take  him  I  Why  don't  you  take  him? 
You  are  a  coward!' 

"All  the  time  Abe  was  speaking,  Honey 
was  growling  and  gnashing  his  teeth.  The 
two  warriors  were  defiant  and  ready  for 
battle.  I  was  a  little  frightened,  but  it 


HONEY'S  OLD  MASTER      177 

tickled  me  to  hear  Abe  talking  that  way, 
because  I  had  always  wanted  to  see  him 
fight. 

"  'Why,'  Abe  continued,  'what  right 
have  you  got  to  Honey?  You  tried  to  kill 
him;  you  kicked  him  and  broke  his  leg 
and  left  him  bleeding  to  death.  Look  at 
Honey's  leg  now,  all  twisted,  because  you 
kicked  him  over  the  cliff.  Why  don't  you 
fall  over  a  hill  yourself,  and  break  your 
own  leg  ?  Then  you  will  know  how  Honey 
felt.  A  dog  suffers  when  he  is  hurt  just 
as  much  as  a  human.  No,  sir,  you  can't 
get  Honey !  He  would  rather  die  than  go 
with  you,  and  I  would  rather  die  than  let 
him!'  were  Abe's  parting  words  to 
Honey's  old  master." 

"Come  on,  Austin,  let's  go,"  said  Abe, 
and  the  boys  retraced  their  steps  toward 
the  Lincoln  cabin. 

"Look,  Abe,"  cried  Austin  excitedly, 
"that  old  man  is  following  us,  and  he  has 
a  big  stick  in  his  hand." 

"Let  him  follow,"  answered  Abe,  "fa- 


178  THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

ther  and  Mr.  Keith  are  at  home  and 
they'll  give  him  a  thrashing  if  he  fools 
with  them ;  and  anybody  who  treats  a  dog 
like  he  treated  Honey  ought  to  have  a 
whipping." 

The  stranger  followed  close  behind  the 
boys  until  they  reached  the  cabin,  where 
with  one  voice  they  excitedly  related  their 
adventure  with  the  dirty  little  man  in  the 
woods.  Mr.  Lincoln,  who  happened  to  be 
in  the  house,  met  the  stranger  and  po 
litely  asked  what  he  could  do  for  him. 

"I  want  my  dog  Whistle,"  he  said,  and 
there  was  a  tone  of  demand  in  his  voice. 

"My  friend,"  answered  Mr.  Lincoln, 
"you  can't  have  the  dog;  even  if  I  should 
consent  I  don't  believe  you  could  persuade 
the  dog  to  go  with  you.  He  would  tear 
you  to  pieces.  He's  trying  to  get  at  you 
now.  He  very  likely  remembers  your 
cruel  treatment." 

"Well,  sir,"  Mr.  Gollaher  commented, 
"when  Abe  heard  his  father  talking  that 
way  his  face  fairly  beamed." 


HONEY'S  OLD  MASTER      179 

"I  will  have  him,"  the  little  man  cried 
out,  as  he  reached  for  a  knife  that  hung 
from  his  belt. 

But  Mr.  Lincoln  was  too  quick  for  him. 
His  arm  shot  out  and  the  belligerent 
stranger  tumbled  in  a  knot  to  the  ground. 
Then  Mr.  Lincoln  lifted  him  up,  and  shak 
ing  him,  said:  "I  believe  you  are  an  es 
caped  criminal.  What  are  you  doing 
prowling  around  in  this  neighborhood?" 

The  dirty  face  whitened,  and  he  began 
to  whine  and  beg. 

"Let  him  go,  father,"  Abe  put  in;  "let 
him  get  out  of  this  neighborhood." 

But  Mr.  Lincoln  questioned  him  fur 
ther,  believing  that  the  man  might  be 
wanted  by  the  officers  of  the  law. 

"What  is  your  right  name?"  asked  Mr. 
Keith  who  had  heard  the  story  and 
watched  the  encounter. 

"Rolling  Stone,"  was  the  sarcastic 
answer. 

"Very  well,"  answered  Mr.  Keith, 
"we'll  just  roll  Mr.  Rolling  Stone  to 


180  THE  BOYHOOD  OP  LINCOLN 

Elizabethtown  and  hold  him  in  jail  while 
his  past  record  is  investigated." 

And  so  they  delivered  the  strange  little 
man  to  the  jailer  at  Elizabethtown,  who 
held  him  until  it  was  learned  that  he  was  a 
harmless,  half-witted  rover,  who  never  be 
fore  had  made  trouble  for  any  one.  He 
had  sense  enough,  however,  to  stay  away 
from  Abe  and  his  dog,  and  never  again  to 
visit  the  Knob  Creek  community. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

KOBINSON  CBUSOE 

"WHAT  are  you  crying  about,  Abe?" 
Austin  asked  sympathetically,  when  he 
found  his  playmate  leaning  against  a  tree 
in  the  yard  of  the  Lincoln  home. 

"I'm  not  crying,  my  eyes  are  just  wa 
tering,"  Abe  answered. 

"Did  you  get  something  in  your  eye?" 

"No,  Austin,  I  just  feel  bad;  I  feel 
funny  down  where  my  heart  is,  something 
keeps  running  up  to  my  throat  and  chokes 
me.  I  guess  it's  because  mother  talked  to 
me  this  morning ;  she  was  so  good  to  me." 

"What  does  she  say  to  you,  Abe,  that 
makes  you  feel  bad?"  inquired  Austin. 

"Well,  you  see,  mother  talks  a  lot  about 
what  will  become  of  me  when  she  goes  to 
the  other  world.  She's  trying  to  tell  me 
181 


182  THE  BOYHOOD  OP  LINCOLN 

what  to  do,  and  how  to  get  along  when  she 
is  not  here  any  more.  She  never  feels 
well,  and  I  believe  she  thinks  the  angels 
are  going  to  come  after  her  soon  and  take 
her  to  God.  She  tells  me  things  she  wants 
me  to  do ;  she  wants  me  to  be  kind  to  ev 
erybody — to  father  and  to  sister ;  and  she 
wants  me  to  try  to  learn  something  from 
books,  so  that  I  can  either  preach  or  teach 
school."  The  tears  were  now  trickling 
down  Abe's  cheeks,  and  he  was  sobbing  as 
if  his  heart  was  broken;  he  did  not  at 
tempt  further  to  conceal  his  tears  from 
Austin,  for  by  this  time  he,  too,  was 
weeping. 

"I  have  forgiven  that  preacher  who 
went  away  with  my  cap,  because  mother 
said  she  didn't  believe  he  aimed  to  steal 
it,"  said  Abe,  as  he  wiped  the  tears  from 
his  eyes  with  his  sleeves.  "And  you  re 
member  one  day  when  he  was  preaching 
he  said  that  every  boy  he  ever  knew  who 
loved  his  mother  and  did  what  she  told 
him  to  do,  never  had  any  trouble  getting 


K 


§1 


l 


ROBINSON  CRUSOE          183 

along  in  the  world ;  well,  I  believe  he  told 
the  truth.  I  am  going  to  try  to  do  what  I 
think  mother  wants  me  to  do.  She's  the 
best  friend  I  have  and  she's  good  to  me, 
and  if  she  should  leave  me  I  reckon  I'd 
never  be  much  account,  because  I  would 
always  be  thinking  about  her,  and 
wouldn't  have  time  to  study  my  lessons." 
"I  know  one  thing,"  said  Austin,  his 
tear-stained  eyes  snapping,  "a  boy's 
mother's  better  to  him  than  anybody  else ; 
she's  a  heap  better  to  him  than  his  father, 
and  when  she  whips  him,  she  whips  him 
easy,  and  when  he  cries  she  stops.  Some 
times  when  a  boy  cries,  and  tells  his  fa 
ther  he's  hurting,  he  won't  stop.  You  re 
member  the  time  father  whipped  me  for 
talking  back  to  old  man  Evans,  don't  you  ? 
Well,  there  were  marks  around  my  legs 
for  two  or  three  days,  and  when  mother 
saw  the  marks  she  called  father  and  told 
him  that  he  mustn't  whip  me  that  way  any 
more.  And  she  told  him,  too,  that  old  man 
Evans  was  a  scamp,  and  that  I  oughtn't 


184  THE  BOYHOOD  OP  LINCOLN 


to  have  been  whipped  so  hard  on  his  ac 
count,  anyhow." 

Abe  agreed  fully  with  everything  Aus 
tin  said  about  mothers,  adding:  " Mother 
never  did  whip  me ;  she  has  just  spanked 
me  a  few  times  for  being  slow  in  bringing 
water  from  the  spring.  And  I'll  tell  you 
what,"  he  continued,  "I  just  can't  move 
along  fast  like  some  boys,  because  I  see  so 
many  little  foolish  things  that  just  seem 
to  make  me  stop;  and  I  can't  help  it  to 
save  my  life.  Why,  not  long  ago,  when  I 
went  to  the  spring  I  saw  a  big  cow  snake 
hanging  to  a  limb  of  a  tree ;  he  was  almost 
covered  with  leaves  and  was  trying  his  best 
to  get  to  a  nest  of  little  young  birds.  Well, 
I  had  to  get  him  out  of  the  tree,  and  I 
threw  at  him  until  my  arm  was  tired  be 
fore  I  killed  him.  But  when  I  told  mother 
what  I  had  been  doing,  she  said  it  was  all 
right,  and  patted  me  on  the  head,  and  told 
me  to  take  all  the  time  I  needed  to  kill 
snakes  and  save  the  lives  of  birds.  Now, 
you  see,"  continued  Abe,  "  father 


EOBINSON  CRUSOE         185 

wouldn't  have  done  that  way,  because  I 
reckon  he  wouldn't  have  cared  if  the 
snake  got  the  birds.  Mother  said  one  time 
she  made  father  turn  a  lot  of  turkeys 
loose,  because  he  had  caught  too  many  of 
them.  But  that  was  when  they  were 
sweethearts,  and  father  would  then  do 
anything  she  told  him  to,  because  he  was 
afraid  some  other  man  would  come  along 
and  be  better  to  her  and  take  her  away 
from  him." 

The  boys  had  both  forgotten  their  sor 
rows  by  this  time  and  Austin  said : 

"Let's  take  the  billy-goat  down  to  the 
creek  and  wash  him  with  some  lye  soap." 

"He  won't  let  us  wash  him,"  replied 
Abe  emphatically.  "I  tried  to  put  him  in 
the  water  yesterday,  and  he  just  tucked 
his  head  down,  shoved  it  against  me  and 
pushed  me  up  the  hill.  He  won't  go  about 
water,  I  reckon  it's  a  goat's  nature  to  be 
like  that,  and  you  know  Mr.  John  says 
it's  mighty  hard  to  change,  to  change — 
what  you  call  it? — to  change  from  the 


186  THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

way  we  are  to  something  else.  He  says 
that's  the  reason  I  can't  move  any  faster 
than  I  do." 

"Then,"  said  Austin,  " let's  get  Honey 
and  go  down  to  the  Nice  Stone  and  watch 
the  squirrels.  But  we  won't  get  on  top  of 
the  stone,  because  yesterday  when  I  was 
down  there  it  looked  to  me  like  one  of 
those  big  rocks  was  about  ready  to  fall." 

"All  right,"  assented  Abe,  "but  did  you 
know  they  saw  some  bear  tracks  in  the 
mud  up  there  by  Mr.  Enlow's  place 
yesterday?" 

"Yes,"  Austin  grinned,  "but  bears 
won't  bother  you  if  you  leave  them  alone ; 
and  besides,  if  one  should  try  to  get  us  I 
could  shoot  him.  I  cleaned  my  gun  good 
this  morning,  and  put  a  lot  of  powder  in 
the  load,  and  I  believe  I  could  hit  a  bear 
square  between  the  eyes." 

Abe  blew  his  whistle  for  Honey,  but  the 
dog  came  rather  slowly. 

"He's  afraid  I'm  going  to  give  him 
bask  to  his  old  master." 


ROBINSON  CRUSOE          187 

"Don't  get  close  to  the  Nice  Stone, 
Abe,"  warned  Austin,  "just  look  how 
loose  that  big  rock  looks." 

"Honey,  go  find  a  squirrel,"  com 
manded  Abe,  but  Honey  was  not  anxious 
to  go  alone  into  the  woods,  and  Abe  had 
to  talk  to  him,  assuring  him  that  all  was 
well,  and  that  he  need  not  fear  he  would 
ever  again  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  man 
who  had  treated  him  so  cruelly.  Finally 
Honey  went,  reluctantly,  but  in  a  few  mo 
ments  came  bouncing  back,  barking  and 
full  of  excitement. 

"Whenever  Honey  acts  that  way,"  said 
Abe,  "there's  something  he  sees  or  hears 
that  he  ain't  used  to.  It  might  be  that 
bear ;  so  let's  go  back  to  the  house  and  tell 
the  folks  about  it." 

Abe  was  right  so  many  times  about  such 
matters  that  Austin  readily  agreed  to  fol 
low  his  suggestion,  and  the  two  ran  to  the 
house  and  told  of  Honey's  queer  actions. 

Jonathan  Keith  consented  to  go  back 
with  the  boys  to  see  if  Honey  had  dis- 


188  THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

covered  something  unusual.  About  one 
half  mile  from  the  Nice  Stone  they  found 
a  man  and  woman  camped  on  a  knoll. 
The  strangers  greeted  them  with  cordial 
salutations,  and  informed  them  that  they 
were  traveling  toward  Indiana,  where 
they  intended  to  reside.  A  quilt  was 
spread  upon  the  grass  and  on  the  quilt 
were  two  or  three  books.  Abe's  eyes  fell 
upon  them  and  his  curiosity  getting  the 
better  of  him,  he  asked  whether  one  of  the 
books  was  named  Robinson  Crusoe. 

The  woman  laughed  and  answered: 
"No,  they  are  readers,  and  we  are  school 
teachers.  We  are  going  to  Indiana  to 
teach." 

"Why  don't  you  stay  here  and  teach 
school  T'  quickly  asked  Abe. 

"Because,"  answered  the  woman 
kindly,  "the  community  is  not  thickly  set 
tled,  and  we  are  afraid  we  could  not  get 
enough  children  in  the  school  to  pay  us, 
my  boy." 

"Well,"  said  Abe  assuringly,  "I'd  go 


ROBINSON  CEUSOE          189 

to  school  to  you,  and  would  do  anything 
you  wanted  me  to  do." 

"Do  you  want  to  learn  to  read  and 
write?"  the  woman  asked. 

"I  can  already  read,  and  can  write  a 
little  bit,"  answered  Abe.  "I  can  spell 
hen  and  cat,  and  dog  and  fox,  mill,  horse, 
squirrel  and  some  other  words." 

"That's  fine,"  said  the  woman.  "Now, 
let  me  hear  you  spell  squirrel." 

"S-q-u-r-i-l,"  responded  Abe  hurriedly. 

' '  You  nearly  had  it  right ;  try  again  and 
go  slowly,"  she  said. 

Abe  studied  for  a  moment,  and  then 
very  slowly  felt  his  way,  spelling: 
"S-q-u-i-r-r-e-l," 

"That  is  fine,  my  boy;  I  would  like  to 
have  you  for  one  of  my  children;  you'd 
learn  quickly." 

"Please  stay  here,"  pleaded  Abe,  "I 
want  to  learn  to  read  and  write.  Did  you 
ever  hear  of  a  book  called  B.  Crusoe? 
About  a  man  on  an  island,  who  was  good 
to  a  black  man  he  called  Friday?" 


190  THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

" Indeed,  I  have,"  the  woman  an 
swered,  smiling,  "I  have  it  over  there  in 
that  sack.  Do  you  want  to  see  it?"  she 
asked. 

Abe  in  his  excitement,  commenced  to 
untie  the  sack,  but  soon  remembered  him 
self,  and  very  much  embarrassed,  asked 
the  woman  to  forgive  him.  She  grabbed 
him  and  hugged  him,  then  untied  the  sack 
and  brought  forth  the  copy  of  Robinson 
Crusoe. 

"Well,  sir,"  said  Mr.  G-ollaher,  taking 
up  the  narrative,  "I  see  that  boy's  happy 
face  right  now;  I  do  believe  it  was  the 
first  time  I  ever  saw  Abe  so  completely 
happy." 

"Come  and  go  home  with  us,"  begged 
Abe.  "I  want  you  to  see  my  mother.  We 
live  right  over  there;  it  won't  take  you 
long.  Come  and  stay  a  week  and  read 
that  book  to  me,  and  some  day  I  will  pay 
you  back,"  he  said,  looking  pleadingly 
into  the  smiling  face  of  the  woman. 

The  man  and  woman  accepted  Abe's  in- 


ROBINSON  CRUSOE 

vitation,  and,  after  strapping  their  be 
longings  to  the  back  of  their  horse,  the 
boys  and  their  new  friends  repaired  to 
the  home  of  Thomas  Lincoln.  They  in 
troduced  themselves  as  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Dawson,  and  Mrs.  Lincoln  gave  them  a 
most  cordial  welcome,  saying  she  would 
be  glad  to  keep  them  for  an  indefinite 
visit  if  she  had  the  room. 

" Mother,"  pleaded  Abe, " can't  we  keep 
them  long  enough  for  Mrs.  Dawson  to  read 
Ito~binson  Crusoe  to  me?  Let  them  sleep 
in  the  loft,  and  I  will  sleep  in  the  stable ; 
the  fodder  makes  a  fine,  bed." 

"My  son,  I  would  be  glad  to  do  this  for 
you  if  we  had  some  way  to  make  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Dawson  comfortable,"  said  Mrs. 
Lincoln. 

"Then  I'll  tell  you  what  we  can  do,"  ex 
claimed  Abe,  pointing  his  long  forefinger 
toward  the  west.  "You  all  can  stay  at 
Mr.  Hodgen's.  He  and  his  mother  have  a 
big  house,  and  there  will  be  plenty  of  room 
there  for  all  of  us.  I'll  go  over  with  you 


192  THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

and  tell  Mrs.  Hodgen  that  I  want  you  to 
stay  and  she  will  let  you,  and  be  mighty 
glad,  too.  Now,  mother,  can't  I  go  with 
them  to  Mrs.  Hodgen 's?"  the  boy  begged 
fervently. 

But  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Dawson  insisted  that 
they  must  proceed  with  their  journey, 
that  they  did  not  feel  that  they  could  lose 
the  time,  even  if  Mr.  Hodgen  and  his 
mother  should  endorse  the  invitation  Abe 
ihad  given. 

"But  that  lad  was  persistent, "  said  Mr. 
Grollaher,  "and  the  Dawsons  finally 
agreed  to  spend  the  night  with  the  Hod- 
gens  if  agreeable  to  them.  So,  with  his 
mother's  consent,  Abe  went  with  the 
strangers  to  make  the  introductions." 

Mrs.  Hodgen  met  them  with  open  arms 
and  joined  with  Abe  in  an  effort  to  get 
the  teachers  to  locate  permanently  in  that 
community,  but  they  were  firm  in  their 
decision  to  settle  in  Indiana.  However, 
they  did  agree  to  spend  a  few  days  with 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Hodgen. 


ROBINSON  CRUSOE          193 

Abe,  of  course,  was  invited  to  remain 
in  the  Hodgen  home  as  long  as  the  teach 
ers  would  stay,  and  his  mother  gave  her 
permission. 

"Mrs.  Dawson  read  Robinson  Crusoe  to 
him,  and  when  I  saw  him  several  days 
later,  he  was  feeling  mighty  good  over  his 
education,"  said  Mr.  Gollaher.  "I 
thought  maybe  he  would  get  in  the  habit 
of  feeling  happy  and  would  smile  oftener, 
but  he  didn't,"  continued  Mr.  Gollaher. 
"I'll  tell  you  that  boy  worried  me  a  lot  be 
cause  he  looked  sad  all  the  time.  The  only 
way  you  could  tell  he  was  feeling  good 
was  when  he  moved  around  quicker  or 
talked  more  than  usual.  But  he  didn't 
cry  any  more  about  his  mother  for  sev 
eral  days,  then  all  at  once  he  grew  sad 
again,  and  I  couldn't  get  him  out  in  the 
woods  to  play.  So,  finally,  one  day  I 
thought  I'd  talk  a  little  rough,  and  I  said, 
' Abe,  you  haven't  got  any  sense ;  you  just 
hang  around  the  house  and  act  like  some 
body's  dead,  and  if  you  don't  get  out  of 


194  THE  BOYHOOD  OP  LINCOLN 

that  way  of  doing  I  am  going  to  get  some 
other  boy  to  play  with  me.'  Well,  sir, 
don't  you  know  that  kind  of  made  Abe 
think  a  little  bit  and  he  never  again  had 
one  of  those  prolonged  spells  of  depres 


sion." 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

SARAH'S  SWING 

Jonathan  Keith  completed  thQ 
grape-vine  swing  for  Sarah  Lincoln,  it 
was  the  nicest  and  best  swing  of  that  kind 
in  the  whole  country,  and  there  were 
many  grape-vine  swings  scattered 
through  the  hills,  too.  Mr.  Lincoln,  who 
was  something  of  a  carpenter,  made  the 
box  seat,  and  Mrs.  Lincoln  did  some  up 
holstering  with  a  sheepskin.  The  grape 
vines  were  securely  looped  around  the 
box,  and  Mr.  Keith  smoothed  and  notched 
a  big  limb,  growing  high  up  on  an  oak 
tree  which  sheltered  much  of  the  Lincoln 
yard,  and  then  over  the  smoothly-notched 
limb  the  vines  were  fastened,  and  Sarah's 
swing  was  complete. 
All  was  ready  for  "the  trip  to  the 
195 


196  THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

moon,"  that  Mr.  Keith  had  been  promis 
ing  her,  and  Abe  and  Austin  watched  the 
proceedings  with  interest.  They  were 
anxious  to  be  asked  to  take  one  of  those  de 
lightful  trips,  but  Sarah  not  even  hinted 
at  such  a  thing. 

"I  reckon  we  will  have  to  build  a  swing 
of  our  own  down  on  Knob  Creek,"  said 
Austin. 

"You  boys  may  swing  when  Sarah  is 
tired  or  when  she  has  something  else  to 
do,"  said  Mr.  Lincoln,,  "but  when  she 
wants  to  make  her  trips  to  the  moon,  you 
two  must  wait.  Do  you  understand?" 

"Yes,  sir,"  answered  both  boys. 

"We  are  going  to  make  us  a  swing  down 
on  the  creek,"  announced  Austin.  "It's 
lots  nicer  down  there  anyhow,  and  Abe 
and  I  can  have  more  fun  by  ourselves." 

"Very  well,"  said  Mr.  Lincoln.  "Get 
the  vines  and  I  will  make  the  box." 

Sarah  kept  the  swing  going  sometimes 
until  she  got  dizzy-headed,  and  then  her 
mother  would  forbid  her  to  swing  until 


SARAH'S  SWING  197 

she  felt  better.  It  was  thus  through 
Sarah's  misfortune  that  Abe  and  Austin 
were  now  and  then  given  a  chance  to  use 
that  popular  vehicle. 

" Austin,  I  like  to  swing,"  shouted  Abe, 
as  Austin  gave  to  him  the  needed  shove. 
"I  like  it  because  something  funny  comes 
in  my  breast  that  takes  that  heavy  feeling 
out." 

"I  like  it  too,"  said  Austin,  " because  it 
makes  me  feel  like  I'm  flying.  Next  sum 
mer  we  will  build  a  good  one  down  there 
by  the  Nice  Stone,  and  then  we  can  swing 
as  long  as  we  want  to." 

"  Sarah  will  get  tired  after  a  while  and 
then  we  can  use  this  one,"  answered  Abe. 

But  Sarah  did  not  get  tired,  though  she 
quit  swinging  because  a  very  unusual  and 
frightful  thing  occurred  that  made  her 
afraid  to  go  near  the  swing  for  a  long 
time. 

The  little  girl  had  climbed  into  the  box 
seat,  and  had  given  a  strong  pull  on  the 
"starting  vine,"  which  was  attached  to  a 


198  THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

small  tree  near  by,  when,  with  a  frightful 
scream,  she  jumped  from  the  box  and  fell 
to  the  ground.  Abe  lifted  Sarah  into  his 
strong  arms  and  held  her  close  to  his 
breast,  while  Austin  ran  for  Mrs,  Lincoln, 
Finally,  Sarah  opened  her  eyes  and 
pointed  toward  the  swing,  screaming 
frantically. 

"Come  here,  Abe,"  shouted  Austin,  as 
Mrs.  Lincoln  bathed  her  little  girl's  head. 
"That's  it;  there's  what  scared  her." 

In  the  bottom  of  the  box  seat  was  a  huge 
cow  snake,  coiled  up  and  blinking  lazily 
in  the  autumn  sun. 

"Well,  I'll  fix  him,"  said  Austin,  who 
frequently  bragged  about  being  a  snake- 
charmer,  and  with  that  he  reached  into 
the  box,  lifted  the  ugly  reptile  out  and 
dropped  it  on  the  ground.  "Let's  drag 
him  out  there  in  the  field  and  let  Honey 
kill  him," 

But  it  wasn't  quite  so  easy  as  they 
thought,  and  Honey  had  the  tussel  of  his 
life. 


SARAH'S  SWING  199 

It  was  many  a  day  before  Sarah  would 
go  near  the  swing,  so  Abe  and  Austin  used 
it  to  their  hearts'  content. 

"Now,  Austin,"  said  Abe,  "do  you 
reckon  anybody  would  ever  accuse  us  of 
putting  the  snake  there?" 

"I  would  hate  to  think  I  was  that  mean, 
wouldn't  you?"  asked  Austin. 

"I  don't  see  how  some  people  sleep  at 
night,"  continued  Abe;  "it  looks  to  me 
like  the  mean  things  they  do  during  the 
day  would  make  such  a  noise  in  their  ears 
that  they  would  stay  awake  all  night. 
Whenever  I  do  something  that  ain't  just 
right,  I  can't  go  to  sleep  for  a  long  time, 
because  there  is  a  funny  noise  in  my  ears 
— something  seems  to  ask:  'Why'd  you 
do  that,  Abe?  Why'd  you  do  that?'  " 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

STEALING  TIME 

IN  AN  abundant  corn-crop  there  was 
ease  of  mind  and  a  winter's  happiness  for 
the  pioneer.  If  he  had  more  than  enough 
to  meet  the  needs  of  his  family  he  was 
ready  with  a  helping  hand  for  friend  or 
neighbor,  who  had  been  less  fortunate. 

When  the  children  were  old  enough  to 
toddle,  they  were  taught  that  their  inter 
est  in  the  corn-field  was  as  great  as  that 
of  the  oldest  member  of  the  family.  They 
learned  early  in  life  that  the  corn-crop 
was  not  being  cultivated  for  the  markets, 
or  for  the  love  of  money,  but  for  the  neces 
sity  of  the  cabin  home.  They  were  taught 
to  work  and  were  impressed  with  the  be 
lief  that  the  harder  the  lick,  the  bigger  the 
corncake  would  be. 

200 


STEALING  TIME  201 

"Abe,  you  and  Austin  have  done 
mighty  good  with  those  four  rows  of 
corn,"  said  Austin's  father,  "and  I  think 
we'll  have  to  give  you  extra  rations  for 
supper.  I  am  not  a  bit  sorry,"  he  contin 
ued,  "that  Tom  Lincoln  and  I  are  going 
halvers  on  that  patch  of  corn.  It  appears 
to  me,  Austin,  that  you  work  better  when 
Abe  is  with  you.  I  reckon  you  did  two 
rows  each,  didn't  you?"  asked  Mr. 
Gollaher. 

Austin's  head  dropped. 

"Out  with  it,  Austin;  how  many  rows 
did  you  do?  Tell  the  truth,"  his  father 
commanded. 

"One,"  replied  Austin. 

"What  made  you  work  so  slow?"  asked 
Mr.  Gollaher.  "You  are  quicker  than 
Abe  when  it  comes  to  play,  and  in  every 
thing  else  where  getting  about  is  required. 
Why  did  you  let  Abe  do  three  rows  to 
your  one?" 

"I've  been  feeling  bad  in  my  side,  fa 
ther,  ever  since  the  day  I  fell  out  of  the 


202  THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

tree,  and  it  hurts  me  to  stoop,"  Austin 
explained. 

"But  you've  been  doing  lots  of  running 
around  since  then.  I  think  111  have  to 
punish  you,"  Mr.  Gollaher  announced 
menacingly  as  if  the  punishment  was  go 
ing  to  be  severe.  "Now,  I'll  tell  you  what 
you  will  have  to  do,  Austin,"  he  went  on. 
"You'll  have  to  catch  up  with  Abe.  So, 
to-morrow  morning  you'll  go  to  work  be 
fore  sunup  and  stick  to  it  till  it  gets  dark. 
You  see,  son,  Abe's  pappy  and  I  are  part 
ners  in  that  patch  of  corn,  and  it  wouldn't 
be  fair  to  let  Abe  do  so  much  more  of  the 
work  than  you  do." 

"I'll  get  up,  too,  and  help  him,  Mr.  Gol- 
laher,"  said  Abe  eagerly. 

"But  I  can't  let  you  do  that,  Abe ;  Aus 
tin  must  do  his  part.  Can't  you  see,  boys, 
that  it  wouldn't  be  fair  for  either  one  of 
you  to  do  more  than  the  other,  because,  as 
I  explained,  Mr.  Lincoln  and  I  are  part 
ners  in  the  patch,  and  each  has  agreed  to 
do  his  share  of  work." 


STEALING  TIME  803 

There  was  no  complaint  from  either  boy 
over  the  form  of  Austin's  punishment, 
each,  perhaps,  feeling  the  justice  of  it; 
but  Abe  was  full  of  sadness.  Austin  was 
out  early  the  next  morning  and  worked 
hard  and  late  to  catch  up  with  Abe,  and 
Abe  was  there  just  a  little  earlier  than 
usual,  hopeful  that  he  might  find  some 
way  to  help  his  unfortunate  comrade. 

" Austin,"  said  Abe,  as  they  were  hoe 
ing  the  next  day,  "they  say  crows  can 
talk  if  you  catch  them  when  they  are 
young  and  teach  them,  and  that  they'll 
follow  you  around  like  a  pet  chicken.  Do 
you  reckon  we  could  catch  one  ?"  he  asked. 

"We  can  set  a  trap  here  in  the  corn  and 
try,"  replied  Austin. 

After  several  unsuccessful  attempts 
they  captured  a  young  crow,  and  Abe 
clipped  its  wings  and  kept  it  tied  up  until 
he  had  tamed  it.  He  fed  and  petted  it  and 
tried  in  many  ways  to  teach  it  to  talk,  but 
the  crow  didn't  quite  understand  and  re 
fused  to  abandon  his  native  "caw." 


204  THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

"It  looks  at  me  with  its  head  turned  to 
one  side  like  it  wants  to  talk,  but  it  won't 
say  a  word,"  Abe  declared,  "and  I  don't 
believe  a  crow  can  talk  unless  its  tongue  is 
split  like  your  mother  said,  and  I 
wouldn't  want  to  do  that." 

Abe's  pets  now  numbered  four :  Honey, 
the  crow,  the  goat  and  a  pet  coon.  When 
he  played  around  his  home  all  four  were 
with  him,  but  when  he  went  into  the  woods 
Honey  only  accompanied  him.  The  coon 
gave  him  much  trouble,  and  Abe  wasn't 
so  fond  of  him  as  he  was  of  the  crow  or  the 
goat.  In  fact  the  coon  had  tried  to  run 
away  several  times,  but  Honey  always 
rounded  him  up  and  brought  him  back. 

A  few  days  later  Mr.  Gollaher  made  an 
other  tour  of  inspection. 

"I  have  caught  up,"  said  Austin,  full 
of  enthusiasm  when  his  father  appeared. 

Mr.  Gollaher  counted  the  rows  and  then 
did  a  little  problem  in  mental  arithmetic. 

"Hold  on  a  minute,"  he  said;  and 
he  counted  the  rows  again. 


STEALING  TIME  205 

Abe  looked  at  Austin,  and  Austin 
looked  at  Abe. 

Finally  Mr.  Gollaher  said:  "Abe,  you 
have  done  only  six  rows  in  three  days, 
The  first  day  you  did  three  of  them.  It 
looks  to  me  like  you  have  been  fooling 
away  your  time  so  Austin  could  catch  up 
with  you.  That  won't  do,  boys,"  he  con 
tinued,  " that's  not  right.  I  am  going  over 
to  Hodgen's  Mill  to-morrow,  Abe,  and  I 
am  going  to  ask  your  pappy  to  let  you  go 
along  with  me.  Then  Austin  can  catch  up 
with  you  in  the  right  way.  You  boys 
haven't  been  honest  with  me,  but  I  don't 
believe  Abe  should  be  punished  because  he 
got  into  trouble  out  of  the  goodness  of  his 
heart." 

"What  do  you  mean  by  we  haven't  been 
honest,  Mr.  Gollaher?"  asked  Abe,  "does 
it  mean  stealing?" 

"It's  this  way,  Abe,"  explained  Mr. 
Gollaher.  "When  the  preacher  went 
away  with  your  cap  he  was  dishonest ;  ha 
stole  the  cap." 


206  THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

"Well,"  said  Abe,  "I  didn't  mean  to 
steal  anything  from  you  and  father  when 
I  worked  slow  to  let  Austin  catch  up  with 
me,  and  I'm  mighty  sorry.  But  was  it 
sure-enough  stealing,  Mr.  Gollaher?" 

"Yes,  Abe;  you  and  Austin  were  steal 
ing  time  from  your  pappy  and  me,  and, 
when  stolen  from  people  for  whom  you 
are  working,  time  is  just  the  same  as 
money,  or  pelts,  or  caps." 

Austin  Gollaher,  the  man,  said  that  he 
never  forgot  that  lesson  in  honesty,  and 
from  that  time  on  he  never  again  failed  to 
give  his  employer  a  full  day's  labor  for  a 
full  day's  pay. 

"Austin,"  said  Abe,  "I  asked  Mr.  Hod- 
gen  if  stealing  time  made  us  thieves,  and 
he  said  it  wasn't  exactly  stealing,  but  if 
we  kept  on  cheating  that  way  we  might 
soon  come  to  stealing.  I  asked  him  how 
we  could  pay  back  what  we  took,  and  he 
said  by  working  a  little  harder,  or  by  do 
ing  something  extra.  So,  let's  don't  go 
W7ith  them  fishing  to-morrow;  let's  stay 


STEALING  TIME  207 

right  here  in  the  corn  patch  and  pay  them 
a  day's  work." 

"Ill  do  it,"  assented  Austin. 

And  in  that  way,  Abe  and  Austin 
squared  the  account. 


CHAPTER  XXV 

AUSTIN  AND  THE  COON 

WHEN  the  Hodgens  built  the  four- 
room,  two-story  house,  shortly  after  the 
death  of  Robert  Hodgen  in  1810.  they 
made  the  rooms  large  so  there  would  be 
no  lack  of  space  when  visitors  came  that 
way;  and  subsequent  events  proved  they 
were  right  since  little  bands  of  travelers 
were  constantly  asking  favors  of  them, — 
a  few  meals  and  shelter  for  a  night  or  two. 
Many  who  stopped  temporarily  were  per 
suaded  to  remain  permanently,  and  so  the 
Hodgens'  big  house  helped  very  materi 
ally  to  build  up  the  community. 

There  was  a  great  grove  of  hickory  and 

walnut  trees  almost  directly  in  front  of 

the  house,  and  through  the  grove  a  stream 

of    clear    spring    water    trickled,    upon 

208 


[AUSTIN  AND  THE  COON    209 

either  side  of  which  were  long  stretches  of 
orchard  grass.  This  grove  was  one  of  the 
playgrounds  of  Abraham  Lincoln,  and 
when  it  was  decided  to  build  a  schoolhouse 
and  church,  he  urged  with  childish  fervor 
that  they  be  built-in  the  grove.  He  was 
greatly  disappointed  when  another  site 
was  chosen. 

Since  the  removal  of  the  Lincolns  from 
Cave  Spring  Farm,  where  Abraham  was 
born,  to  the  farm  close  to  that  of  the  Gol- 
lahers,  Thomas  Lincoln  had  grown  more 
thrifty,  and  took  a  great  interest  in  prep 
aration  for  the  winter.  He  cut  wood 
and  stacked  it;  he  patched  the  roof;  he 
fed  his  pigs,  and  looked  closer  to  his  sup 
ply  of  meal.  He  was  an  enthusiastic  nut 
gatherer,  always  had  his  pockets  full  of 
walnuts — his  favorite — and  frequently 
stopped  his  work  to  break  the  shells  and 
pick  out  the  kernels.  Every  week  in  the 
fall  he  was  in  the  big  grove  with  his  sack 
which  he  always  brought  home  full.  In 
fact,  he  gathered  so  many  nuts  that  he 


210  THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

could  not  find  storage  room  for  them  in 
his  small  home,  so  he  walled  up  a  place 
under  a  projecting  rock  on  a  hillside  back 
of  his  cabin,  and  there  he  put  away  many 
bushels  in  the  " Lincoln  nut  cliff,"  as  it 
was  called  by  his  neighbors. 

" Austin,"  said  Mr.  Lincoln  one  even 
ing,  "  bring  your  sack  over  in  the  morn 
ing,  and  you  and  Abraham  may  go  with 
me  to  the  grove  after  more  nuts.  Mr. 
Keith  has  promised  me  the  mule,  and  we 
will  bring  back  the  sled  well  loaded." 

While  Austin  was  busy  shaking  nuts 
from  the  top  of  a  big  tree  a  coon  appeared 
upon  the  scene,  and  at  once  showed  fight. 
The  boy  was  so  frightened  that  he 
dropped,  but  luckily  grabbed  a  limb  as  he 
was  falling  and  held  to  it  for  dear  life. 
Not  realizing  the  cause  of  the  commotion, 
Mr.  Lincoln  cried  out: 

"What's  the  matter  up  there?  Hold 
tight,  Austin ;  don't  lose  your  head ;  if  you 
fall  it  will  kill  you.  'Coon'  it  to  the 
trunk!" 


AUSTIN  AND  THE  COON    211 

"I  can't/'  screamed  Austin.  " Don't 
you  see  that  big  coon  in  the  hollow  of  the 
tree ;  he's  mad ;  shoot  quick  or  he'll  scratch 
me  to  pieces." 

Mr.  Lincoln  saw  the  trouble;  the  rifle 
cracked,  and  an  immense  coon  tumbled  to 
the  ground. 

"That's  the  biggest  one  I  have  ever 
seen,  and  it's  a  mighty  lucky  thing  for 
you,  my  boy,  that  he  did  not  get  to  you," 
said  Mr.  Lincoln.  "Why,  that  coon  would 
have  torn  your  head  off  if  he  could  have 
got  a  square  lick  at  you." 

When  Austin,  who  had  lost  no  time  get 
ting  to  the  ground,  had  caught  his  breath, 
he  said  to  Abe :  "Do  you  think  it  was  all 
right  to  kill  the  coon  ? ' ' 

"Yes,  I  think  it  was  all  right,"  Abe  an 
swered.  "I've  always  said  it  was  right  to 
kill  animals  and  varmints  and  things  like 
that  when  they  want  to  fight."  Then  he 
added,  a  twinkle  in  his  eye:  "I  guess  you 
are  worth  more  than  the  coon,  even  if  they 
can't  make  caps  out  of  your  skin." 


'212  THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN! 

"Get  away  from  that  coon,  Honey," 
said  Mr.  Lincoln;  "his  hide  will  go  a  long 
ways  toward  making  me  a  coat." 

"But,  father,"  said  Abe,  "ain't  you  go 
ing  to  give  the  coon  to  Austin?  He  found 
it." 

"No,  he  didn't,"  replied  Mr.  Lincoln; 
"the  coon  found  Austin." 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

JUST  TURNED  AROUND 

THE  sun  was  hanging  low  in  the  west ; 
the  hills  were  already  steeped  in  shadows, 
and  night  would  soon  fall  upon  field  and 
wood.  Abraham  Lincoln  and  Austin  Gol- 
laher  were  lost  and  facing  a  night  in  the 
woods.  The  boys  had  been  aimlessly  wan 
dering  for  some  time,  each  knowing  they 
were  lost;  neither  mentioning  it  to  the 
other.  They  were  hoping  that  something 
would  lead  them  aright,  and  that  it 
wouldn't  be  necessary  for  the  one  to 
frighten  the  other  by  admitting  the  truth ; 
but  finally,  realizing  the  seriousness  of 
the  situation,  they  stopped  and  anxiously 
scanned  the  chain  of  blue  hills  to  the  east, 
and  then  looked  at  each  other. 

213 


214  THE  BOYHOOD  OP  LINCOLN 

"We  are  just  turned  around,  not  lost," 
exclaimed  Abe. 

"I  know  it,"  said  Austin,  "but  how  are 
we  going  to  get  turned  around  right?" 

"Let's  don't  get  scared,  and  let's  think 
about  something,"  was  Abe's  very  sensi 
ble  suggestion.  "Now,"  he  said,  "there 
is  no  use  to  travel  any  farther  toward  the 
hills.  It  seems  like  that's  the  way  home, 
but  we  didn't  come  over  the  hills  to  get 
here,  and  we  couldn't  get  home  by  going 
that  way." 

"That's  so,"  Austin  agreed,  "but  it 
seems  to  me  if  we  go  any  other  way  we 
won't  be  going  home.  It  looks  like  I  can 
almost  see  our  houses  over  there  where 
the  hills  are.  We  had  no  business  trying 
to  come  through  the  woods  until  we  had 
been  through  with  our  fathers.  But  we 
aren't  afraid,"  he  added,  "because  we'll  be 
all  right  if  it  doesn't  storm  and — 
thunder." 

"If  we  could  find  Knob  Creek  we  could 
get  home,"  remarked  Abe  reassuringly, 


Knob  Creek  still  has  its  foot-logs  and  the  children  of  the  hills 
play  there  to-day  as  they  played  more  than  a  hundred  years  ago 


3ITST  TURNED  AROUND     215 

" because  there's  no  place  along  the  creek 
we  haven't  been.  We'd  be  sure  to  know 
which  way  to  go,  too,  if  we  could  see  that 
big  tall  tree  that  stands  on  the  hill  over 
there  by  Mr.  Dawson's  house.  We've  got 
to  find  something  like  that  before  we  can 
get  out  of  here.  Look  for  a  path,  Aus 
tin,"  advised  Abe,  "look  good,"  and  he 
clapped  his  hands  to  emphasize  his  com 
mand,  "and  if  we  find  one  we'll  follow 
it — we'll  follow  it  over  that  way,"  and  he 
pointed  in  the  direction  that  seemed  di 
rectly  away  from  home.  "Rabbits  and 
'possums  and  other  animals,"  he  said, 
"make  paths  in  going  to  Knob  Creek  for 
water.  I  have  heard  father  say  that  he'd 
followed  a  narrow  trail  lots  of  times  in 
looking  for  water,  and  that  he  nearly  al 
ways  found  it." 

"The  sun's  about  down,"  said  Austin, 
"and  before  we  know  it,  it  will  be  black 
as  pitch  in  here,  and  then  we'll  have  to  do 
like  the  men  do  when  they  are  lost  and 
night  comes  on." 


216  THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

"What  do  they  do?"  Abe  quickly 
asked. 

"They  just  stop  right  where  they  are 
and  stay  there  until  daylight,  because  it 
don't  do  any  good  to  try  to  find  your  way 
when  you  haven't  got  a  trail  to  follow. 
So,  if  we  don't  find  something  pretty  soon 
we  '11  stay  where  we  are  till  morning.  And 
we  must  keep  awake,  too,  and  listen  for 
the  blasts  from  the  hunters'  horn  and  look 
for  the  torch-lights,  because  our  fathers 
are  sure  to  be  out  looking  for  us.  But 
they  won't  be  as  scared  as  they  were  the 
time  you  were  lost  in  the  cave,  because 
they  know  we  are  together.  I  wish  your 
mother  and  Sarah  hadn't  taken  Honey 
with  them  down  to  Mrs.  Hodgen's.  If 
Honey  were  here  he'd  know  the  way 
home." 

But  Abe  had  no  intention  of  spending 
the  night  in  the  woods  if  his  acute  mind 
could  find  a  way  out,  and  he  continued 
his  search  for  a  path  in  the  underbrush. 
He  examined  closely  every  patch  of 


JUST  TURNED  AROUND  217 

briers,  every  clump  of  bushes,  getting 
down  on  his  hands  and  knees  in  his  eager 
ness  to  find  a  trail. 

"Here  it  is!"  he  shouted,  as  the  sun 
dropped  out  of  sight.  And  when  Austin 
joined  him  he  saw  running  through  the 
woods  and  the  briers  a  well-defined  path. 
The  boys  followed  it  at  a  gallop,  scratch 
ing  their  hands  and  faces  as  they  hurried 
through  the  tall  briers  and  tangled  thick 
ets.  Less  than  half  a  mile  away  they 
found  Knob  Creek,  and  were  greatly  sur 
prised  to  discover  themselves  within  a 
stone's  throw  of  their  homes. 

"Well,"  said  Austin,  "we  were  ' turned 
around'  right  where,  had  we  hollered  loud 
enough,  they  would  have  heard  us.  The 
next  time  we'll  cut  notches  in  the  trees. 
Or  we  won't  go  any  more  unless  we  take 
Honey  with  us.  I  reckon  he's  got  more 
sense  than  we  have,"  he  laughingly 
concluded. 

"It  looked  like  the  hills  had  moved  to 
another  place,  didn't  it? — like  they  had 


218  THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

just  covered  up  Knob  Creek,"  said  Abe. 
"We  are  late,  and  mother  will  be  uneasy 
about  me,  but  when  I  tell  her  we  were  lost, 
I  reckon  she'll  be  so  glad  we  got  home  all 
right  that  she  won't  scold  me  much. 

" Whenever  you're  lost,"  Abe  advised 
Austin,  as  if  he  were  much  older,  "just 
try  to  think  about  what  you  are  doing, 
and  don't  get  scared,  and  the  most  of  the 
time  you  will  find  your  way  back  home. 
That's  the  reason  I  want  to  learn  how  to 
read;  the  books  tell  you  a  lot  of  things — 
they  tell  you  how  to  keep  out  of  trouble, 
and  if  you  do  get  in  they  show  you  how  to 
get  out." 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

THE  GHOST 

THOMAS  LINCOLN  sat  in  front  of  his 
backlog  fire.  He  was  picking  kernels 
from  a  heap  of  walnuts,  and  was  hungrily 
gulping  them  down.  It  was  early  in  the 
evening,  but  Mrs.  Lincoln,  Abe  and  Sarah 
were  in  bed.  The  moon  was  shining 
brightly  and  the  first  snow  of  the  season 
was  falling.  It  was  just  the  kind  of  night 
to  sit  by  a  warm  fire,  eat  walnuts  and 
dream,  which  Mr.  Lincoln  was  doing  in  a 
highly  satisfactory  manner. 

Suddenly  there  was  a  rap  on  the  door, 
but  before  Mr.  Lincoln  had  time  to  ex 
tend  the  settler's  usual  polite  invitation, 
"Come  in,"  the  latch-string  was  silently 
lifted,  and  a  "ghost"  walked  into  the 
room.  The  thing  had  upon  its  shoulders 
219 


220  THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

an  ox  head,  and  from  its  skeleton  eyes 
shone  flickering  flames  of  light.  Its  body 
was  robed  in  white,  and  about  its  should 
ers  was  a  large  white  sheepskin.  The 
make-up  of  the  creature  was  hideous;  it 
was  so  ghastly  that  Thomas  Lincoln  stood 
there  in  the  small  room  shivering  and  un 
decided  what  to  do. 

Abraham,  who  was  not  yet  asleep, 
crawled  noiselessly  from  his  trundle  bed, 
stole  up  behind  the  ghost  and  tipped  the 
skeleton-head  of  the  ox  to  the  floor  and 
disclosed  a  young  woman  who  had  but  re 
cently  moved  into  the  community,  and 
who  had  a  mania  for  playing  pranks. 
Though  Mr.  Lincoln  earnestly  impressed 
on  her  the  danger  of  amusing  herself  in 
such  fantastic  ways,  she  continued  to 
frighten  people  until  one  evening  she  was 
given  a  whipping  by  two  boys  who  failed 
to  see  the  humor  of  her  practical  jokes. 

"Were  you  afraid  of  the  ghost?"  asked 
Austin  the  next  day,  when  Abe  related  the 
experience  of  the  previous  night. 


THE  GHOST  221 

"No,  I  wasn't,"  was  the  prompt  reply, 
"but  I  reckon  I  would  have  been  if  I 
hadn't  seen  that  old  ox  head  over  at  her 
house  a  few  days  before.  I  asked  her 
mother  why  they  were  keeping  it,  and  she 
said  her  daughter  used  it  to  scare  people 
with. 

"But,"  continued  Abe,  smiling  faintly; 
"father  didn't  eat  any  more  walnuts  af 
ter  the  ghost  came,  and  he  told  mother 
that  devilish  girl  kind  o'  made  him  ner 
vous.  You  see,  father  doesn't  exactly  be 
lieve  in  ghosts,  but  he  says  he  has  seen  lots 
of  funny  things  in  the  woods  at  night,  and 
for  that  reason  he  doesn't  like  to  be  out 
after  dark.  Once  he  was  sure  he  saw  an 
Indian  war-dance.  I  can  just  barely  re 
member  one  night  when  we  lived  on  Cave 
Spring  Farm,  father  came  home  nearly 
scared  to  death.  He  told  mother  he  saw  a 
giant  riding  a  big  lion  through  the  woods, 
and  that  the  lion  and  the  man  actually 
tore  down  the  trees  as  they  galloped  and 
roared  through  the  timber.  Mother  put 


222  THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

father  to  bed,  and  lie  didn't  get  out  for  a 
long  time." 

"Are  you  much  afraid  when  it  gets 
dark?"  asked  Austin. 

"Not  much,"  replied  Abe,  "because 
Missus  Sarah  says  the  night  is  just  like  a 
big  room  in  her  house  that  she  keeps  dark 
during  the  day  by  putting  something  over 
the  window,  and  she  asked  me  if  I  would 
be  afraid  to  go  into  that  room  while  it  was 
dark,  and  when  I  told  her  I  wouldn't  she 
said:  'Well,  that  dark  room  is  just  like 
night,  and  if  you  are  not  afraid  to  go 
where  I  have  made  it  dark,  I  know  you 
are  not  afraid  to  go  where  God  has  made 
it  dark.'  She  said  the  world  was  God's 
big  house,  and  that  when  it  got  dark  in  the 
world  it  was  because  God  had  put  some 
thing  over  the  window." 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

THE  DISTRESS  SIGNAL 

THE  Christmas  hunt  one  hundred  years 
or  more  ago  was  a  big  event  among  the 
settlers.  The  hunting  parties  were  usu 
ally  made  up  of  not  more  than  eight  or 
ten  neighbors  who  were  closely  identified 
in  a  social  way,  and  who  loved  that  feat 
ure  of  the  meet  as  much  as  they  loved  the 
sport. 

When  the  date  was  finally  set,  the  bul 
lets  molded  and  all  preparations  made, 
the  hunters  met  at  a  given  time  and  place, 
the  routes  were  mapped  out  and  the 
" stands"  selected,  each  receiving  full  in 
structions  what  to  do  if  something  un 
looked-for  should  happen.  Then  the  men 
and  dogs  went  forth  into  the  wilderness 
to  invade  the  hiding-places  of  the  turkey, 
223 


224  THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

the  deer  and  other  game  which  was  then 
so  plentiful  in  Kentucky. 

The  crack  of  the  rifle  was  as  music  to 
the  ears  of  the  backwoodsman,  and  when 
he  heard  the  faint  muffled  report  of  the 
old-time  rifle,  over  there  on  the  hill  or 
down  in  the  valley,  he  smiled  and  made  a 
mark  upon  a  rock  or  a  tree.  Each  hunter, 
knowing  the  exact  location  of  his  com 
rades,  kept  an  account  of  the  number  of 
shots  fired,  when  the  report  was  within 
reach  of  his  acute  and  well-trained  ears, 
and  he  could  tell  within  remarkable  ac 
curacy  how  many  pieces  of  game  each 
hunter  had  brought  down  during  the  day, 
when  all  assembled  late  in  the  afternoon 
to  make  the  count,  and  relate  their 
experiences. 

The  aim  of  those  hunters  was  unerring, 
and  when  one  heard  the  report  of  a  rifle 
it  was  safe  to  give  the  hunter  credit  for 
another  wild  creature  of  the  forest.  It 
was  unusual  to  miss,  and  when  for  any 
reason  a  wild  shot  was  made,  the  hunter 


THE  DISTRESS  SIGNAL     225 

was  greatly  chagrined,  for  he  knew  his 
comrades  of  the  hunt  would  " devil"  him 
when  they  met  together  at  the  close  of  the 
day. 

The  hunters  had  signals  which  were 
obeyed  implicitly.  The  hunter's  horn  was 
law.  It  was  the  call  to  duty,  and  every 
man  obeyed  it.  There  was  to  be  no  wait 
ing,  not  for  a  moment,  when  that  blast 
was  sounded.  It  was  considered  of  such 
importance  that  there  was  a  standing  ad 
monition  that  ran  something  like  this: 
"If  the  game  is  there  and  the  gun  is 
raised,  and  you  hear  a  blast,  don't  shoot 
until  you  have  obeyed  the  law  of  the 
horn." 

One  short  blast  of  the  horn  called  a  cer 
tain  pioneer,  two  blasts  called  another, 
and  so  on,  each  having  a  number.  One 
long  blast  was  the  distress  signal,  and  all 
who  heard  it  went  to  the  comrade  that 
made  it  in  all  haste. 

"Abe  didn't  enjoy  these  annual  hunts," 
said  Mr.  Gollaher,  "and  when  he  was  very 


226  THE  BOYHOOD  OP  LINCOLN 

young,  shortly  after  the  Lincolns  moved 
here,  he  expressed  himself  to  me — with 
that  mild  convincing  look  upon  his  face 
that  always  made  me  feel  queer — as  being 
6  against  killing  things  in  the  woods  that 
don't  bother  you.'  Only  once  did  he  take 
part  in  an  expedition. 

"I  shall  never  forget  that  day,"  con 
tinued  Mr.  Gollaher;  "I  thought  Abe  was 
the  strangest  lad  in  the  world,  and  I  guess 
he  was.  When  he  heard  the  report  of  a 
rifle  he  had  a  way  of  doubling  up  his 
fists,  drawing  his  face  and  shrugging  his 
shoulders  that  was  most  peculiar.  He 
was  actually  beside  himself  with  nervous 
ness  and  seemed  extremely  uncomfort 
able.  Once  he  whispered  to  me:  *I  hope 
they  won't  hit  anything.  If  I  could  tell 
the  turkeys  and  deer  that  the  men  are 
watching  for  them,  I'd  do  it,  so  they  could 
go  into  the  caves  and  stay  there  till  the 
hunt  is  over.' 

"Upon  this  occasion  Abe  and  I  were 
permitted  to  take  a  stand  with  Mr.  Hod- 


THE  DISTRESS  SIGNAL     227 

gen.  We  were  stationed  close  to  a  small 
spring  which  ran  out  of  a  rock  at  the  foot 
of  a  hill.  Yonder 's  the  hill,  right  over 
there  to  the  east — the  one  with  the  dead 
trees  at  the  top,"  said  the  venerable  Mr. 
Gollaher,  with  a  wave  of  his  hand. 
"  Right  at  the  foot  of  that  hill  we  had  our 
stand — Mr.  Hodgen,  Abe  and  I.  That's 
the  hill,  and  that  big  flat-top  rock  was 
there  then  as  now.  A  clump  of  bushes 
and  saplings  were  just  in  front  of  the 
rock,  making  a  good  hiding-place  for  the 
hunter. 

"  There  had  been  many  rifle  reports 
during  the  morning  and  afternoon,  and 
Mr.  Hodgen  had  been  kept  pretty  busy 
making  marks  on  the  rock.  Abe  had 
learned  to  count  and  had  figured  up  the 
number  of  'poor  things,'  as  he  called 
them,  that  had  been  killed.  He  asked  Mr. 
Hodgen  if  he  believed  that  every  time  a 
gun  cracked  something  had  been  shot,  and 
when  the  question  was  answered  in  the 
affirmative,  Abe  replied  in  his  simple 


228  THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

wonderful  way:  'It's  mighty  bad!  It 
ain't  right!' 

"Mr.  Hodgen's  hunting  horn  was  lying 
on  the  rock,  close  to  the  marks  he  had 
scratched,  the  marks  Abe  had  been  scan 
ning — earnestly  and  sorrowfully  from  the 
moment  the  first  one  was  made  early  in 
the  morning  until  some  time  in  the  after 
noon — when  he  himself  brought  that 
day's  hunt  abruptly  to  a  close. 

"The  weather  was  wonderfully  mild 
for  that  time  of  the  year,  we  didn't  even 
have  to  move  about  to  keep  our  feet  warm. 
Abe  and  I,  standing  just  behind  the  rock, 
had  our  pockets  full  of  walnuts  and  sweet 
cakes.  And  I  at  least  was  having  a  pretty 
good  time  watching  for  game  and  listen 
ing  to  the  sound  of  the  guns.  Suddenly 
Mr.  Hodgen  crouched  low  behind  the 
rock.  His  keen  ears  had  caught  the  faint 
noise  of  an  animal  gliding  through  the 
forest  on  the  opposite  side  of  Knob  Creek. 
I,  too,  had  heard  the  sound. 

"  'There  it  is!'  cried  Abe.    And  there, 


THE  DISTRESS  SIGNAL     229 

not  more  than  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet 
away,  with  its  head  high,  stood  a  fawn. 
Mr.  Hodgen  did  not  see  it  immediately, 
and  before  he  could  shoot  Abe  grabbed  the 
horn  and  blew  the  distress  signal.  Of 
course  the  fawn  skipped  away  and  was  in 
stantly  lost  in  the  deep  dark  woods  on  the 
other  side  of  the  creek. 

"Well,  sir,"  continued  Mr.  Gollaher, 
"I  was  mad  enough  to  jump  on  Abe  and 
give  him  a  good  licking,  and  I  fully  ex 
pected  Mr.  Hodgen  to  box  his  jaws,  but 
he  didn't,  he  just  said,  'Why,  Abraham!' 
Abe  made  no  reply;  he  just  stood  there 
gazing  across  the  creek  to  where  the  fawn 
had  stood  a  moment  before. 

"I  knew,  of  course,  Abe  was  in  for  it; 
I  wouldn't  have  been  in  his  breeches  for 
anything  I  knew  of  at  that  time ;  but  after 
I  got  in  a  good  humor  I  felt  sorry  for  him 
and  didn't  want  to  see  him  whipped.  I'll 
tell  you,  Abe  had  me  conjured. 

"That  signal  meant  that  all  the  hunters 
who  heard  it  would  leave  their  ' stands'  at 


230  THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

once  in  answer  to  the  call.  Abe  seemed 
very  much  unconcerned,  except  that  he 
was  sorry  to  displease  Mr.  Hodgen,  and 
told  him  so,  but  added  that  he  was  glad  he 
saved  the  life  of  the  little  fawn. 

"Mr.  Lincoln's  ' stand'  was  the  nearest 
to  ours,  so  I  knew  he  would  be  there  in  a 
few  minutes.  I  felt  sure  Mr.  Hodgen 
would  think  Abe  deserved  a  good  whip 
ping,  and  was  therefore  greatly  surprised 
when  he  said :  'Now,  Abraham,  we've  got 
to  do  something  to  save  you.  Your  father 
will  give  you  a  whipping,  and  I  don't 
want  him  to  do  that,  because  I  know  just 
how  you  feel  about  the  matter.  If  you 
had  only  asked  me  not  to  take  the  life  of 
the  fawn  you  would  have  saved  yourself 
all  this  trouble,  for  I  was  not  anxious  my 
self  to  shoot  the  little  thing.' 

"  '  Just  let  father  whip  me,'  said  Abe  in 
his  matter-of-fact  way:  'he  won't  kill  me, 
I  reckon,  and  if  I  hadn't  blown  the  horn 
you  would  have  killed  the  fawn;  you 
couldn't  have  kept  from  shooting  it.' 


THE  DISTKESS  SIGNAL     231 

"  'What  shall  I  tell  your  father  when 
he  comes,  Abe?  What  shall  I  tell  him?' 

"  'Tell  him  I  did  it.  Tell  him  I  blew 
the  horn  to  save  the  life  of  the  fawn,'  was 
Abe's  decisive  answer.  'He  can  whip  me 
all  he  wants  to  and  I  won't  cry. ' 

"  'No,'  said  Mr.  Hodgen,  'I  am  going  to 
try  to  save  you. ' 

"In  a  few  moments  Mr.  Lincoln  came 
tearing  breathlessly  through  the  brush. 

"  'What's  wrong?'  he  cried. 

"  'Oh,  nothing  much,'  Mr.  Hodgen  re 
plied,  'Abraham  just  unthoughtedly  blew 
the  horn  a  little  louder  than  he  intended. 
It's  about  time  we  were  all  assembling 
anyhow,  and  it  didn't  really  make  much 
difference,'  he  added  indifferently. 

"  'That  was  a  very  bad  thing  to  do, 
Abraham,  and  I  will  have  to  whip  you 
wiien  we  get  home,'  announced  Mr. 
Lincoln. 

"  'Tom,'  pleaded  Mr.  Hodgen,  'just  a 
light  one  this  time.  Abraham  will  never 
do  it  again.' 


232  THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

"  'I  know  I  won't,  because  I  am  not  go 
ing  out  with  you  all  again,'  and  then  he 
let  the  cat  out  of  the  bag  by  saying:  'I 
just  couldn't  stand  to  see  Mr.  Hodgen 
shoot  that  little  deer.'  " 

When  the  full  story  came  out  Mr.  Lin 
coln  proposed  to  whip  Abe  then  and  there, 
but  Mr.  Hodgen  protested,  saying  that 
such  punishment  should  take  place  in  the 
home,  not  in  the  open  air  before  others ; 
that  it  was  too  much  like  a  public 
whipping. 

"Well,  did  your  father  whip  you  very 
hard?"  Austin  asked  the  next  day. 

"Yes,  he  did,  and  he  was  mad  because  I 
didn't  cry.  The  whipping  didn't  hurt 
much,"  bragged  Abe,  "I  think  God  must 
have  kept  it  from  hurting — kept  it  from 
hurting  much,  because  I  saved  the  life  of 
the  little  deer, 

"Don't  you  know,  Austin,"  Abe  con 
tinued  seriously,  "God  might  think  as 
much  of  that  little  fawn  as  He  does  of 
some  people,  and  He  might  not  want  it 


THE  DISTRESS  SIGNAL     233 

killed.  How  can  we  be  sure  that  He 
doesn't  want  it  to  grow  up?  You  know, 
big  deers  kill  snakes — paw  them  to  death, 
and  when  that  little  fawn  grows  up  big 
and  strong,  he  may  kill  a  poisonous  snake 
that  might  have  bitten  a  man  or  woman  or 
child  and  killed  them.  How  do  we  know 
that  God  didn't  make  me  blow  that  horn 
yesterday?" 

"Well,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Gollaher,  "that 
was  sound  argument,  and  convinced  me 
Abe  had  acted  entirely  within  his  rights. 
He  always  convinced  me  when  he  thought 
it  worth  while.  He  was  a  philosopher — a 
reasoner — smarter  than  anybody." 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

THE  KING'S  LITTLE  BOY 

"MOTHER  wants  Austin  to  come  to  see 
Abraham,"  cried  Sarah  Lincoln  as  she 
entered  the  Gollaher  cabin. 

"My  child,"  said  Mrs.  Gollaher,  "Aus 
tin  can't  go;  he  was  bitten  on  the  foot  by 
a  poisonous  snake  about  an  hour  ago,  and 
we  have  been  applying  chicken  fat  to  the 
wound  ever  since  to  draw  out  the  poison. 
Austin  insists  it  was  a  harmless  water 
snake,  not  a  rattler,  but  his  leg  is  might 
ily  swollen  and  we  are  uneasy  about  him." 

"Well,  I'll  declare!"  exclaimed  Sarah, 
"it's  mighty  funny.  Abraham  cut  his 
big  toe  with  the  ax  about  the  same  time 
the  snake  bit  Austin,  and  we  couldn't  get 
it  to  stop  bleeding  until  mother  went  out 

234 


THE  KING'S  LITTLE  BOY    235 

to  the  stable  and  got  a  lot  of  spider-webs 
and  covered  the  cut  with  them." 

In  the  afternoon  the  swelling  had  left 
Austin's  leg,  and  he  announced:  "I'm 
going  over  to  see  Abe,  and  tell  him  to  get 
his  pappy  to  chew  up  a  lot  of  tobacco  and 
put  on  the  cut  place  and  it  will  be  well  by 
morning." 

When  he  reached  the  cabin  Abe  greeted 
him  with:  "Why  didn't  you  kill  the 
snake,  Austin?" 

"He  got  away  from  me,"  Austin  ad 
mitted.  "He  crawled  into  a  hole  in  the 
bank  of  the  creek.  I  thought  he  was 
asleep,  and  just  for  fun  I  tried  to  grab 
him  back  of  the  head  with  my  toes, — and 
he  wasn't  asleep.  His  head  shot  out  and 
he  bit  me.  That's  what  made  father  think 
it  was  a  rattler ;  they  snap  that  way.  But 
water  snakes  do  too  when  they're  feeling 
good.  How's  your  toe?" 

"It's  getting  all  right  since  mother  put 
cobwebs  on  it." 

"You'd  better  have  somebody  chew  up» 


236  THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

some  tobacco  and  put  that  on  it;  it'll  heal 
in  a  hurry  then, ' '  advised  Austin. 

"It's  too  bad,"  Austin  went  on;  "we 
were  going  to  the  mill  to-day,  and  Mr. 
John  will  wonder  why  we  didn't  come, 
unless  some  of  the  folks  go  and  tell  him 
what  has  happened." 

"It  might  have  been  a  heap  worse  for 
us  if  we  had  gone  to  the  mill.  Something 
might  have  happened  to  us  going  or  com 
ing.  You  can't  tell.  But  I'll  be  mighty 
glad,"  Abe  continued  seriously,  "when  I 
get  old  enough  to  wear  shoes  the  year 
round — old  enough  and  make  money  to 
wear  shoes  in  the  summer  time." 

"You  may  never  get  old  enough  to  do 
that,  Abe,"  said  Austin  discouragingly. 
"There  are  lots  of  old  men  and  women 
around  here  that  go  barefooted  the  year 
round,  and  I  reckon  we  would  have  if  the 
old  man  who  works  for  Mr.  Hodgen 
hadn't  made  the  shoes  for  us  last  winter. 
You  ought  to  be  glad  you  didn't  have  your 
shoes  on  when  you  cut  your  foot;  your 


THE  KING'S  LITTLE  BOY    23T 

toe  will  heal  up,  but  the  shoe  would  have 
been  ruined." 

Abe  smiled  at  this  and  asked  Austin  if 
he'd  like  to  hear  a  story  about  a  king's  lit 
tle  boy  in  a  far-off  land.  Austin  settled 
himself  to  listen  and  Abe  began : 

"  Mother  said  her  aunt  told  this  story 
to  her  when  she  was  a  little  girl,  so  you  see 
it  is  a  long  time  since  it  happened,  and  the 
king  and  his  little  boy  have  been  dead  for 
a  hundred  years.  Well,  this  king's  little 
boy  had  a  twisted  foot,  and  because  he 
wasn't  straight  and  active  like  other  boys 
his  father  didn't  like  him  and  was  always 
slapping  him  and  mistreating  him.  One 
day  some  travelers  were  passing  through 
the  country  and  among  them  was  a  beau 
tiful  little  boy  with  long  golden  curls. 
When  the  king  saw  him  he  wanted  to  take 
him  into  his  castle  and  pretend  to  the  peo 
ple  that  this  was  his  own  child;  and  he 
wanted  to  have  him  learn  a  lot  of  things 
from  books  so  that  the  boy  might  become 
king  when  he  died.  So  he  swapped  his 


238  THE  BOYHOOD  OP  LINCOLN 

little  boy  with  the  twisted  foot  for  the 
poor  little  boy  who  belonged  to  the  trav 
elers,  and  he  gave  them  a  lot  of  gold  be 
sides.  The  king's  little  son  was  old 
enough  to  know  that  he  had  been  traded 
by  his  father  because  his  foot  was  twisted 
— because  he  was  ugly  and  big  and  kind  of 
rough,  just  like  you  and  me,  Austin.  So 
he  kissed  his  mother  good-by  and  told  her 
he  would  come  back  to  see  her  some  time. 
"Well,  he  worked  with  his  foot,  pulling 
it  and  pressing  down  upon  it,  never  mind 
ing  the  pain,  trying  to  straighten  it.  One 
day  he  hired  a  man  to  make  two  boards  to 
fit  around  his  foot,  giving  to  the  man 
some  beads  that  his  mother  had  given  him, 
and  then  he  got  the  man  to  wrap  the 
boards  tight  around  his  foot.  He  suf 
fered  day  and  night,  but  he  kept  on  hav 
ing  the  boards  drawn  tighter  until  by  the 
time  he  was  a  young  man  his  foot  was 
straight.  Then  he  was  determined  to  be 
a  great  soldier,  and  get  together  a  lot  of 
soldiers  and  go  back  to  visit  his  mother, 


THE  KING'S  LITTLE  BOY    239 

and  kill  his  father,  and  take  his  place  as 
king.  He  soon  had  a  big  army,  and  with 
it  he  marched  to  the  land  of  his  father! 
When  he  got  there  he  sent  word  to  his  fa 
ther  that  he  had  come  to  kill  him  and  take 
his  place  as  king. 

"When  his  father  learned  what  was  to 
be  done  he  was  badly  scared  and  sent  for 
his  son  to  come  to  see  him.  The  son  went 
to  his  father's  castle,  and  his  father 
begged  him  not  to  kill  him,  but  the  son 
said  that  was  why  he  had  come,  and  he 
would  have  to  do  it.  Then  the  soldier's 
mother  came  in  and  begged  him  to  spare 
his  father's  life.  He  finally  said:  'All 
right,  mother,  for  your  sake  I  will  not  kill 
him.'  Then  he  sent  his  messenger  out  to 
where  his  army  was  camped  and  ordered 
those  travelers  who  traded  their  boy  to 
his  father  to  be  brought  to  the  castle.  In 
a  little  while  they  were  there.  Then  the 
king's  son  said  to  the  king:  'Get  off  of 
your  throne.'  And  the  king  obeyed, 
said  the  soldier,  'you  see  my 


240  THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

twisted  foot  is  straight,  and  with  it  I  will 
kick  you  out  of  this  castle.'  The  soldier 
then  began  to  kick  the  king,  and  he  kicked 
him  down  the  long  steps  out  to  the  street, 
and  there  he  met  the  same  travelers  and 
he  said  to  them:  'Now  you  must  take  my 
father  and  you  must  treat  him  just  as  you 
treated  me,  and  after  you  have  kept  him  as 
-long  as  you  kept  me,  you  may  bring  him 
back  here.  If,  when  you  bring  him  back, 
he  has  a  twisted  foot,  I  will  make  him 
king  again  in  my  place  and  I  will  leave 
the  country.  If  he  will  work  as  hard  to 
twist  his  foot  as  I  worked  to  straighten 
mine,  he  may  be  successful.' 

"How  do  you  like  that  story,  Austin?" 
Abe  asked. 

"It's  a  good  story,"  exclaimed  Austin, 
"but  what  became  of  the  pretty  little  boy 
the  traveler  left  with  the  king?" 

"Oh,  I  don't  know.  It's  only  a  story, 
and  even  if  it  was  true,  the  boy's  dead  for 
a  hundred  years  I  reckon,  so  it  makes  no 
difference  about  him." 


CHAPTER  XXX 

TWO  PKAYEKS  JUST  ALIKE 

"I  BELIEVE  that's  Joel  Walters'  house 
burning,"  said  Thomas  Lincoln,  as  he  and 
the  Gollahers  watched  the  bright  light  of 
a  distant  fire. 

"It's  exactly  in  their  direction,"  re 
plied  Mr.  Gollaher.  "We  better  do  a  lit 
tle  investigating ;  and  I  guess  it  would  be 
well  to  take  Abe  and  Austin  along.  They 
might  be  of  some  help." 

They  set  out  at  once  for  the  top  of  the 
hill  back  of  the  Lincoln  cabin,  for  from 
there  they  would  have  a  better  view  of  the 
fire. 

"It  certainly  is  Joel's  house,"  ex 
claimed  Mr.  Lincoln. 

"Yes,  I  am  sure  of  it  now,"  replied  Mr. 
Gollaher ;  and  they  ran  on  down  the  slope 
241 


242  THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

of  the  hill  into  the  deeply  wooded  valley 
beyond. 

" That's  not  Mr.  Walters'  house,"  Abe 
said,  as  he  and  Austin  fell  a  little  behind 
the  others. 

"Then,  if  it  ain't,  why  don't  you  tell  the 
men,  so's  we  can  all  go  back  home?"  said 
Austin  impatiently.  "It's  sprinkling 
rain  right  now,  and  I  don't  want  to  be 
caught  out  here  in  a  storm." 

"You  tell  your  father,"  said  Abe,  "and 
I '11  tell  mine." 

When  they  had  begun  to  climb  the  next 
hill,  Abe  ran  to  his  father  and  said: 
"That's  not  Mr.  Walters'  house." 

"How  do  you  know?"  queried  Mr. 
Lincoln. 

Everybody  stopped  to  hear  Abe's 
explanation. 

"Because  it's  not  in  the  right  place." 

"It  certainly  is  in  the  right  place,"  said 
Mr.  Lincoln,  and  Mr.  Gollaher  nodded  his 
head  in  approval. 

"I'm  sure  it's  not,"  contended  Abe. 


TWO  PRAYERS  JUST  ALIKE  243 


it' 


:Why  are  you  so  sure,  Abe?  How  do 
you  know?"  asked  Mr.  Gollaher. 

"I'll  tell  you  why.  You  all  know  the 
tall  poplar  tree  on  top  of  the  hill  there  by 
our  house?" 

"Yes,"  answered  both  men  rather 
impatiently. 

"Well,  sir,  in  the  winter  when  all  of  its 
leaves  are  off,  that  tree  looks  just  like  it 
was  leaning  against  the  smoke  coming  out 
of  Mr.  Walters'  chimney;  it  looks  that 
way  when  you  come  up  the  path  toward  it. 
To-night  I  sighted  that  tree  against  the 
fire,  and  the  fire  was  way  off  from  it — 
way  over  there,"  and  Abe  pointed  to  the 
right. 

"Did  you  ever  see  such  a  boy  in  all  your 
life!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Gollaher;  "and  111 
bet  my  buttons  he's  right,  too." 

It  was  only  a  short  distance  to  the  top 
of  the  hill  they  were  on  and  when  they 
reached  it,  Thomas  Lincoln,  somewhat  out 
of  humor,  said:  "Abraham's  right;  but 
I  don't  see  why  in  the  mischief  he  didn't 


244  THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

tell  us  before  we  came  all  the  way  over 
here.  But  if  it  isn't  Walters'  house  burn 
ing,  what  is  it?" 

"I'll  tell  you  what  it  is,"  said  Abe. 
"Don't  you  remember  over  at  Mr.  Hod- 
gen's  that  day  we  all  had  dinner  there 
that  Mr.  Walters  said  he  was  going  to 
burn  the  hollow  trees  on  his  place?  He 
said  he  was  going  to  do  it  because  the  wild 
animals  and  varmints  that  catch  chickens 
live  in  hollow  trees.  I  remember  because 
I  thought  he  oughtn't  to." 

"You  are  right,"  said  Mr.  Lincoln. 
"Joel  shouldn't  have  done  it.  Such  game 
is  leaving  the  country  too  fast,  anyhow." 

"Why  didn't  you  tell  us,  Abe?"  asked 
Thomas  Gollaher,  as  they  were  retracing 
their  steps  through  the  woods,  "why 
didn't  you  tell  us  we  were  on  a  wild  goose 
chase?" 

"I  was  afraid  to,"  Abe  answered. 

"What  were  you  afraid  of?" 

"I  was  a  little  afraid  it  might  be  Mr. 
Walters'  house.  Then  if  we  hadn't  gone 


TWO  PEAYEES  JUST  ALIKE  245 

to  help  Mm  he'd  never  have  liked  me 
again ;  he'd  have  thought  I  didn't  want  to 
come  and  help  them  out  of  their  trouble." 

Thomas  Gollaher  laughed  heartily  at 
this  very  sensible  answer  and  said: 
"Tom,  you  have  a  mighty  smart  boy  in 
that  youngster." 

A  little  farther  on  Austin  said  ex 
citedly:  "I  hear  water  roaring." 

"So  do  I.  It's  Knob  Creek,"  replied 
Abe. 

"Father,"  said  Austin,  "I  believe 
Knob  Creek's  up,  and  we  won't  be  able  to 
cross  it.", 

"Look-a-here,  Jonathan,"  Mr.  {jrolla- 
her  called  to  Mr.  Keith,  "I  believe  the 
boy's  right.  It  looks  like  we've  been  cut 
off  from  home.  It  hasn't  rained  here  to 
amount  to  anything,  but  I  reckon  the 
waters  above  have  flushed  the  stream  so 
we  can't  cross  that  foot-log." 

It  was  true.  The  little  mountain 
stream  had  risen  rapidly  and  was  now 
rippling  over  the  foot-log,  making  it  dan- 


246  THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

gerous  to  cross,  as  the  water  at  that  point 
was  very  swift,  although  not  more  than 
waist  deep. 

By  this  time  it  was  raining  pretty  hard 
and  the  men  realized  it  would  be  useless 
to  attempt  to  reach  their  homes  that 
night.  So  they  halloed  to  their  families 
and  sought  shelter  in  a  cliff  high  above 
the  water,  to  await  the  pleasure  of  Knob 
Creek;  but  the  little  stream  continued  to 
climb  so  that  by  daybreak  it  had  spread 
completely  over  the  lowlands,  while  the 
heavy  clouds  continued  their  downpour. 

Noon  came,  the  creek  continued  to  rise 
and  there  was  no  sign  that  the  rain  would 
cease  in  time  for  the  channels  to  empty 
themselves  before  night,  so  the  party  de 
cided  to  take  refuge  in  the  home  which, 
the  night  before,  they  thought  was  burn 
ing.  They  were  given  a  hearty  welcome 
by  Mr.  Walters  and  his  family,  all  of 
whom  laughed  heartily  when  they  learned 
how  their  friends  happened  to  be  in  their 
present  predicament. 


TWO  PRAYERS  JUST  ALIKE  247 

"If  I'd  known  the  burning  of  those  old 
hollow  trees  was  going  to  get  my  neigh 
bors  into  all  of  this  trouble,"  said  Mr. 
Walters,  "I  would  have  left  them  for  the 
weasels  and  foxes." 

" Austin,"  said  Abe,  when  the  two  were 
preparing  for  bed  in  the  little  loft  over 
the  Walters'  kitchen,  "do  you  ever  say 
your  prayers'?" 

"Sometimes  I  do  and  sometimes  I 
don't,"  answered  Austin,  yawning.  "Do 
you  say  yours?" 

"Yes,  every  night." 

"Well,  I  guess  I  would,  too,  if  I  knew 
what  to  say.  What  do  you  say,  Abe?" 

"I'll  tell  you  mine,  and  you  can  remem 
ber  and  say  it;  then  God  will  be  getting 
two  prayers  just  alike.  I  just  say : 

"God  help  mother,  help  father,  help 
sister,  help  everybody;  teach  me  to  read 
and  write,  and  watch  over  Honey  and 
make  him  a  good  dog;  and  keep  us  all 
from  getting  lost  in  the  wilderness. 
Amen!" 


CHAPTER  XXXI 

TELL  THE  TRUTH 

"AUSTIN/'  said  Abe,  "I'll  be  mighty 
glad  when  I  can  have  my  own  big  ax. 
This  would  be  a  good  place  right  here  to 
put  up  a  schoolhouse.  Don't  you  reckon 
we  could  clean  it  up,  and  help  the  men  to 
build  a  schoolhouse?" 

"I  don't  know,  Abe.  And  if  we  had  a 
schoolhouse,  who  would  teach  school  T' 

"You  remember  Mrs.  Hodgen  always 
said  we  ought  to  have  the  cage  ready  be 
fore  we  catch  the  bird,  and  I  believe  we 
should  have  the  schoolhouse  built  before 
we  try  to  get  a  teacher.  If  Mrs.  Hodgen 
keeps  on  teaching  me  and  I  keep  on  learn 
ing  I  could  teach  a  little  myself." 

Austin  laughed  at  this  and  teased  a 
little. 

248 


TELL  THE  TRUTH  249 

"That's  all  right,"  retorted  Abe,  "I 
could  teach  you  some  things  now.  I  can 
spell  a  lot  of  words,  and  can  count  up  to  a 
hundred.  I  wish  you  would  try  to  learn 
something  about  reading  and  writing  and 
spelling  and  figuring." 

"Don't  want  to  learn,"  Austin  replied, 
"because  it  wouldn't  do  me  any  good.  I 
don't  expect  to  be  a  preacher  or  a  teacher, 
and  what  good  would  it  do  for  me  to  learn 
things  like  that?" 

"Some  of  these  times,"  answered  Abe, 
"you  might  want  to  sell  a  cow  or  a  pig, 
and  you  couldn't  count  your  money;  or 
you  might  wrant  to  write  something  on  a 
tree,  and  you  couldn't  do  that  either.  If 
you  would  let  me  teach  you  what  I  know 
now,  by  the  time  you  learned  that  I'd 
know  more;  so,  you  see,  there  would  al 
ways  be  something  I  could  teach  you." 

They  were  building  a  new  ridge-road  to 
Elizabethtown.  The  settlers  of  that  sec 
tion  were  working  toward  Hodgen's  Mill, 
and  those  of  Hodgen  Mill  were  working 


250  THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

toward  Elizabethtown,  each  crew  hoping 
to  meet  the  other  half-way  between  the 
two  places  before  bad  weather  set  in. 

Abe  and  Austin  kept  the  road-build 
ers  in  their  vicinity  supplied  with  water 
from  the  hill  spring.  Each  carried  a  cedar 
bucket  and  gourd,  and  were  required  to 
pass  the  water  frequently  as  the  heat  was 
intense.  Whenever  they  found  opportu 
nity,  the  boys  would  take  an  extra  ax  and 
slash  at  one  of  the  smaller  trees. 

("Abe  was  a  natural-born  chopper," 
said  Mr.  Gollaher,  "and  I  must  admit  he 
could  beat  me  at  that  kind  of  work,  al 
though  he  was  a  good  deal  younger  than  I. 
But  he  was  larger, — he  was  the  biggest 
boy  in  Kentucky  for  his  age — biggest  in 
body  and  mind.") 

"Come  here  quick!"  Austin  called  to 
Abe,  "I've  cut  my  foot,  and  I've  cut  it 
mighty  bad,  too. ' ' 

Austin  was  panic-stricken,  but  Abe  said 
very  quietly:  "It  ain't  cut  half  as  bad  as 
mine  was  the  day  the  snake  bit  you.  Take 


TELL  THE  TRUTH  251 

that  moccasin  off  and  we'll  fix  it.  We'll 
go  to  the  spring,  wash  the  blood  off  and 
wrap  your  foot  up  in  a  piece  of  your 
shirt-tail." 

"I  don't  want  mother  to  find  out  about 
this,"  Austin  said,  after  Abe  had  fastened 
the  bandage.  "I  don't. believe  I'll  limp 
when  I  get  home,  and  then  she  won't  ever 
know  anything  about  it." 

"Yes,  she  will,"  said  Abe.  "because 
part  of  your  shirt-tail  is  gone." 

6 <  That 's  so, ' '  Austin  admitted.  <  *  Well, 
I'll  tell  her  Honey  grabbed  me  and  tore  it 
with  his  teeth." 

"No,  sir-ee,  you  won't!"  said  Abe  em 
phatically.  "You  can't t story'  on  Honey. 
You'll  just  have  to  tell  your  mother  the 
truth.  She  won't  whip  you;  she  never 
does.  What  are  you  afraid  of?" 

"Well,  I'll  tell  you,  Abe,  I've  been 
bragging  about  being  a  good  chopper,  and 
I  don't  want  them  to  laugh  at  me." 

"But  you  must  tell  the  truth  about  that 
shirt-tail.  Your  mother  won't  be  mad 


252  THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

when  she  knows  you  might  have  bled  to 
death  if  we  hadn't  tied  up  your  foot  right 
away." 

"Mother's  going  to  be  mad,"  insisted 
Austin,  "  because  just  the  other  day  she 
said  she  believed  I'd  have  to  have  another 
shirt  before  spring,  and  she  told  father 
he  must  try  to  get  some  goods  next  time 
he  went  to  Elizabethtown  or  Bardstown." 

"I'll  tell  you  what  your  mother  can 
do,"  suggested  Abe.  "She  can  make  a 
new  tail  to  your  shirt  out  of  the  hide  of 
the  wildcat  you  killed  the  day  we  were 
fishing." 

That  suited  Austin,  and  he  wrapped  his 
moccasin  about  the  injured  foot  and  hur 
ried  to  the  spring  to  get  another  bucket 
of  water  for  the  roadbuilders. 

Abe  patted  Honey's  head  and  said: 
"No,  Honey,  I  won't  let  Austin  or  any 
body  fib  on  you."  Then  the  boys,  answer 
ing  the  call  for  "more  water,"  climbed 
again  to  the  top  of  the  hill. 

"Austin,  they  say  there's  a  big  book 


TELL  THE  TRUTH  253 

somewhere  that  tells  all  about  wrapping 
up  cuts  and  sores,  and  about  giving  medi 
cine  made  of  herbs  to  sick  people.  If  we 
had  that  book  and  could  read  it,  we  could 
learn  a  lot  about  such  things,  and  would 
know  what  to  do  the  next  time  we  get 
hurt.  And  that's  one  reason  you  ought  to 
learn  to  read,"  concluded  Abe. 


CHAPTER  XXXII 

THE  RIGHT  TO  FIGHT 

CORN-SHUCKING  and  house-raising  par 
ties  would  not  be  popular  to-day  unless 
each  "guest"  was  well  paid  'for  being 
present.  But  in  Kentucky  one  hundred 
years  ago,  such  invitations  were  accepted 
with  pleasure.  The  women,  as  well  as  the 
men,  attended  these  corn-shuckings,  and 
after  the  work  was  done,  fiddles  were 
brought  forth  and  the  dancing  began. 
" Matches"  were  made  between  the  boys 
and  girls,  and  there  used  to  be  a  saying 
that  the  girl  who  couldn't  find  a  husband 
at  a  corn-shucking  social  wasn't  worth 
shucks — that  if  she  couldn't  go  from  the 
shucks  to  the  dance,  and  from  the  dance 
to  the  marriage  altar  within  a  month,  she 
would  be  an  old  maid. 
254 


THE  EIGHT  TO  FIGHT       255 

When  a  pioneer  wished  to  build  a  new 
house,  or  an  addition  to  his  old  one,  he 
usually  spent  several  weeks  in  felling  and 
hauling  logs.  Then,  allowing  a  few  days 
for  mishaps  and  delays,  he  sent  word  to 
his  neighbors  that  upon  a  certain  day  he 
would  give  a  house-raising  party.  At  the 
appointed  time  the  good  friends  would  be 
on  hand. 

They  were  building  a  cabin  for  a  newly- 
married  couple  who  had  recently  removed 
from  Virginia  and  bought  some  land 
from  Thomas  Gollaher's  father — Aus 
tin's  grandfather.  Abe  and  Austin  were 
allowed  to  go  to  the  party,  that  they  might 
have  some  primary  training  in  the  busi 
ness  of  house-raising.  During  the  day  a 
fight  occurred  between  two  of  the  men, 
following  a  stormy  dispute  over  the  date 
of  a  certain  battle  in  the  Revolutionary 
War.  Abraham  watched  the  struggle 
with  little  apparent  concern,  as  he  sat 
upon  a  log,  his  chin  resting  in  his  hands. 
When  asked  by  an  old  man  if  he  was  not 


256  THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

afraid  the  men  would  hurt  each  other,  he 
very  indifferently  said  he  wasn't. 

"And  why?"  asked  the  old  man. 

"Because,"  answered  Abe,  "they  have 
no  business  fighting.  If  they  had  waited 
until  they  got  home  their  wives  could  have 
settled  the  question;  the  women  keep 
dates  of  such  things  set  down  in  writing, 
and  besides,  there  wasn't  any  need  to 
fight  about  the  big  war  which  was  over  so 
long  ago.  I  wouldn't  have  cared  very 
much  if  they  had  bloodied  each  other's 
noses." 

Now,  Abraham  was  no  doubt  mistaken 
as  to  the  women  having  "set  down  in  writ 
ing"  the  dates  of  battles  of  the  Bevolu- 
tion,  but  the  women-folk  of  the  back 
woods  were  the  historians,  and  they  kept 
rather  complete  diaries,  recording  events 
as  told  by  the  people  or  obtained  from 
borrowed  papers  and  books.  These  dia 
ries  were  current,  also.  Deaths,  mar 
riages,  births  and  many  other  important 
events  were  recorded,  and  "mother's  book 


THE  RIGHT  TO  FIGHT       257 

of  things,"  as  it  was  called,  was  often  re 
ferred  to  in  settling  disputes. 

Abraham  had  no  patience  with  men  or 
boys  who  tried  to  settle  their  differences 
by  personal  encounters.  He  did  not  think 
that  "fist-and-skull"  fighting,  as  they 
called  it,  should  be  resorted  to,  unless  one 
had  to  "hit"  to  keep  from  being  "hit." 

"Austin,  let  me  tell  you  something,"  he 
said  after  the  men  had  been  separated, 
"there  is  no  use  in  fighting  over  dis — dis 
— (what  do  you  call  it?)  dis — putes. 
There's  always  somebody  who  can  tell 
which  one  is  right  and  which  one  is 
wrong.  All  they  have  to  do  is  to  wait  a 
little  while  until  they  can  find  a  book,  or 
get  Missus  Sarah  to  tell  them." 

"But  just  suppose,  Abe,  somebody 
calls  you  a  bad  name ;  then  what  are  you 
going  to  do  about  it?" 

"Just  let  him  alone ;  if  you  hate  the  boy 
it's  best  not  to  hit  him." 

"Why?  "asked  Austin. 

" Because  if  you  don't  he'll  go  from  bad 


258  THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

to  worse,  and  will  finally  be  whipped  at 
the  public  whipping  post ;  but  if  you  gave 
him  a  good  pounding  it  might  cure  him," 
was  Abe's  characteristic  reply.  "Do  you 
know,  Austin,  what  the  public  whipping 
post  is?  It's  a  post  where  they  tie  bad 
men  and  thieves  and  whip  them  where  ev 
erybody  can  see  the  whipping;  and  they 
say  after  a  man  is  whipped  at  the  public 
whipping  post  he  has  to  leave  the  coun 
try,  for  from  that  time  on  everybody  will 
make  fun  of  him/' 

"Who  whips  him?"  asked  Austin. 

"The  law — the  law  gives  some  man  the 
right. 

"I  don't  believe  in  fighting  if  it  can  be 
helped,"  Abe  went  on.  "You  remember 
the  day  father  hit  old  Mr.  Rolling  Stone; 
well,  father  had  to  hit  him  because  he  was 
fixing  to  cut  father  with  a  knife.  I'd 
have  fought  old  Mr.  Boiling  Stone  myself 
that  day  he  wanted  to  take  Honey  away 
from  me;  I'd  have  fought  him  and 
whipped  him,  and  I'd  have  had  the  right 


THE  RIGHT  TO  FIGHT       259 

to  do  it.  You  have  a  right  to  fight  to 
keep  what  belongs  to  you,  and  to  make 
people  give  up  what  doesn't  belong  to 
them;  but  I  think  it's  mighty  wrong  to 
fight  over  little  disputes. 

"I'm  glad  they  let  us  come  over  here  to 
day,"  said  Abe  on  the  way  home  that 
evening;  "I've  learned  a  lot  more  about 
getting  the  logs  notched  for  putting  them 
together,  and  I  can  help  with  that  church 
and  schoolhouse  they  are  talking  about 
building  over  here  on  Knob  Creek." 

"And  I'm  glad,  too,"  said  Austin,  "be 
cause  I've  been  wanting  to  see  a  fight  for 
a  long  time." 


CHAPTER  XXXIII 

ABE'S  DREAM 

THE  women-folk  who  lived  near  Knob 
Creek  met  there  twice  each  month  during 
the  spring,  summer  and  fall  to  do  the 
neighborhood  washing.  A  slanting  rock 
was  used  for  a  wash-board ;  limbs  of  trees 
were  stripped  of  their  bark  and  the  cloth 
ing  spread  over  them  to  dry.  The  women 
folk  gossiped  and  on  one  occasion  even 
told  their  dreams. 

" Don't  tell  your  bad  dreams  before 
breakfast,"  advised  Joel  Walters'  eldest 
daughter.  "You  know  I  dreamed  Aunt 
Mary  Kastor  was  dead,  told  it  before 
breakfast,  and  within  a  week  we  buried 
her.  I  wouldn't  tell  another  bad  dream 
before  breakfast  for  anything." 

Mrs.  Keith  (Jonathan  Keith  had  now 
260 


ABE'S  DEE  AM  261 

married  a  Miss  Brownfield,  and  had 
built  a  cabin  so  close  to  the  Lincolns' 
that  they  could  talk  from  one  to  the  oth 
er)  related  a  dream  of  a  man  drowning  in 
the  Boiling  Pork  River,  and  said:  "I 
woke  Jonathan  in  the  night  and  told  him 
of  the  dream.  And  just  three  weeks  af 
ter  that  they  found  a  man's  body,  all  cov 
ered  with  mud,  on  the  bank  of  the  river." 
Mrs.  Gollaher  then  told  in  detail  a 
dream  that  had  greatly  impressed  her. 
She  had  dreamed  that  gold  had  been 
found  by  the  wagon-load  back  in  the  hills, 
and  people  were  rushing  there  from  ev 
erywhere  with  picks  and  shovels,  and  that 
heaps  of  the  yellow  ore  was  being  hauled 
by  her  house  every  day.  The  dream  was 
so  real  she  believed  there  might  be  gold 
in  the  hills,  and  sometimes  she  wanted  to 
go  see  for  herself.  She  said  that  in  her 
dream  President  James  Madison  had 
come  from  Washington  City  and  was 
overseeing  the  work  of  getting  gold  out 
of  the  hills ;  he  said  he  was  going  to  use  it 


262  THE  BOYHOOD  OP  LINCOLN 

to  pay  for  building  roads  from  one  end  of 
the  country  to  the  other.  "Then,"  she 
added  laughingly,  "I  was  awakened  by  a 
loud  clap  of  thunder." 

Abe,  listening  with  wide-eyed  interest, 
asked  Mrs.  Gollaher  if  she  believed  there 
was  anything  in  dreams. 

"Yes,"  she  replied,  "but  you  and  Aus 
tin  mustn't  look  for  gold  in  that  hill,  be 
cause  you  might  get  lost. " 

"I  don't  want  any  gold,"  answered 
Abraham,  "The  reason  I  asked  you  if  you 
believe  dreams  come  true,  was  because  I 
once  had  a  dream  which  I  have  been 
thinking  about  a  heap." 

"Then,"  said  Mrs.  Gollaher,  "we  want 
to  hear  your,  dream.  What  was  it 
about?" 

"Was  it  about  your  sweetheart!" 
asked  Mrs.  Keith, 

"No,  ma'am;  I  haven't  got  any  sweet 
heart.  I  did  have  one,  but  she  said  my 
feet  and  hands  were  too  big,  and  my  legs 


ABE'S  DREAM  263 

and  arms  too  long,  and  that  she  liked  the 
Evans  boy  better  than  she  did  me ;  so 
Susie — Susie  Enlow  don't  like  me  any 


more." 


"Too  bad,  Abe,"  said  another  woman; 
"but  we  want  to  hear  about  yous  dream. 
What  was  it?" 

"Well,"  said  Abe,  "my  dream  was 
about  making  a  speech  to  a  lot  of  people 
in  a  big  town,  and " 

Here  the  boy  was  interrupted  by  a 
frightened  scream  from  one  of  the  chil 
dren  and  the  general  commotion  that  fol 
lowed,  A  large  water  snake  had  wrapped 
itself  about  the  little  girl's  leg.  Austin, 
the  snake-charmer,  tried  his  wiles,  but  the 
reptile  wouldn't  charm,  so  he  seized  it  by 
the  head  and  beat  it  to  death  upon  the 
rocks. 

When  the  excitement  was  over  they 
tried  to  get  Abe  to  finish  his  dream,  but 
he  just  shook  his  head  and  said:  "There 
wasn't  much  more  to  it." 


264  THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

"Do  you  ever  expect  to  make  a  speech 
to  a  lot  of  people  in  a  big  town?"  asked 
Mrs.  Gollaher  with  a  smile. 

"I  don't  know,  I  might,"  Abraham 
replied. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV 

OFF  THE  SHEEP  *S  BACK 

"ABRAHAM,  do  you  see  how  heavy  the 
wool  is  on  those  sheep  over  there  ?"  asked 
Mrs.  Hodgen,  as  the  two  were  strolling 
through  a  grove  on  the  Hodgen  farm. 

"Yes,  ma'am,  the  white  sheep  look  like 
big  snowballs  and  the  black  sheep  look 
like  burnt  backlogs." 

"Well,"  continued  Mrs.  Hodgen,  "I'm 
going  to  make  you  and  Mr.  John  each  a 
suit  of  clothes  out  of  that  wool,  and  knit 
you  some  socks,  to  keep  you  warm  next 
winter." 

"It  will  take  almost  as  much  wool  to 
make  a  suit  for  me  as  for  Mr.  John,"  said 
Abraham.  "Just  look  how  long  my  arms 
and  legs  are.  They  are  growing  twice  as 
fast  as  Austin's.  If  I  keep  on  growing 
265 


266  THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

taller,  I'm  afraid  I'll  have  to  live  out-of- 
doors.  Father  said  the  other  day  that  by 
the  time  I  was  fifteen  he'd  have  to  cut  a 
hole  in  the  roof  for  my  head  to  stick 
through — when  I  was  sitting  down." 

"JTou  mustn't  let  people  tease  you  about 
your  long  legs  and  arms,  Abraham. 
Don't  you  know  if  your  arms  are  longer 
than  those  of  other  men  you'll  be  able  to 
reach  farther  ? 

6 '  Suppose  a  fairy  should  hang  a  bag  of 
gold  high  in  a  tree,  and  would  say  to  the 
boys  of  your  age  around  here,  'The  first 
boy  who  reaches  the  bag  of  gold,  without 
tiptoeing  or  jumping,  may  have  it.' 
Don't  you  know  you  would  get  it?  And 
maybe  God  gave  you  long  legs  so  you 
could  travel  faster  toward  success  when 
you  are  older* 

"You  must  stop  worrying  and  feel  that 
you  were  made  that  way  so  you  could 
reach  big  things  with  your  hands  and  step 
over  perplexing  things  with  your  feet. 
Anyhow,"  she  continued,  "we'll  make 


OFF  THE  SHEEP «  BACK    267 

those  two  suits  of  clothes.  You  must  ask 
your  mother  to  let  you  spend  a  week  with 
me  so  we  can  shear  the  sheep  and  get  the 
wool  ready  to  spin." 

It  was  fun  for  Abraham  and  he  worked 
faithfully  with  Mrs.  Hodgen  until  the 
new  suits  were  made.  The  breeches 
turned  out  to  be  three  or  four  inches  too 
long,  but  when  Mrs.  Hodgen  insisted  on 
cutting  them  off,  he  said:  "No,  they'll 
be  just  right  next  month." 

"Where  did  you  get  your  new  suit, 
Abe  ?"  asked  a  boy  at  the  mill  a  few  days 
later. 

"Mrs.  Hodgen  cut  it  off  the  sheep's 
back  and  gave  it  to  me,"  he  answered. 

"Yes,"  said  Mr.  Hodgen,  "mother  gave 
Abe  that  suit  and  Abe  gave  me  this  one." 

"No,  sir,"  Abe  quickly  corrected,  "Mis 
sus  Sarah  gave  it  to  you." 

"Didn't  you  help  Missus  Sarah  shear 
the  sheep,  spin  the  wool  and  weave  the 
cloth?" 

"Yes,  sir." 


268  THE  BOYHOOD  OP  LINCOLN 

"Well,  don't  you  think  your  services 
are  worth  the  suit  you  received?" 

"A  boy  would  have  to  work  a  whole 
year  for  a  suit  like  that,"  replied  Abe. 

"You  must  learn  to  charge  what  your 
services  are  worth,"  Mr.  Hodgen  insisted. 
"Some  men  would  work  you  a  lifetime,  if 
you  would  allow  it,  and  wouldn't  give  you 
a  pair  of  socks.  I  say  you  earned  your 
suit  of  clothes." 

Abraham  made  no  a  n  s  w  e  r — j  u  s  t 
grinned.  But  later  in  the  day  he  said  to 
Mr.  Hodgen,  "I  reckon  you're  right  about 
some  people  letting  you  work  a  lifetime 
and  not  giving  you  anything  for  it,  if  you 
didn't  make  them.  You  know  that  old 
man  who  works  for  Mr.  Evans  ?  Well,  I 
asked  him  one  day,  when  he  was  looking 
so  hungry,  if  Mr.  Evans  gave  him  three 
meals  a  day.  He  said,  'Yes,  when  I  work 
all  day  he  gives  me  three  meals,  but  when 
it  rains  and  I  can't  work,  he  won't  even 
give  me  my  supper.'  " 


CHAPTER  XXXV 

THE  HUMAN  TKEE 

A  DEAD  tree  upon  the  summit  of  a  high 
hill  is  often  so  shaped  by  the  storms  of 
years  that,  with  the  aid  of  imagination,  it 
may  come  to  resemble  a  huge  human 
form ;  and  its  shadow  against  the  sky  of 
ten  fills  the  superstitious  with  awe. 

There  were  a  few  people  in  the  Knob 
Creek  section  who  believed  the  signs  they 
read  in  the  dead  trees  on  the  hills.  To 
their  distorted  fancies  the  limbs  of  such  a 
tree  might  point  in  one  direction  to-day, 
and  in  another  the  next.  If  one  limb 
pointed  south,  that  meant  in  winter  that 
the  weather  was  to  be  mild ;  if  in  summer 
the  heat  was  to  be  excessive.  It  was  an  ill 
omen  if  a  limb  pointed  skyward.  It 
meant  there  was  to  be  a  death  in  the  com- 
269 


270  THE  BOYHOOD  OP  LINCOLN 

munity,  and  the  people  who  believed  in 
these  predictions  began  to  give  more  at 
tention  to  their  prayers  and  their  church 
duties. 

Thomas  Lincoln  was  not  without  his 
superstitions.  It  is  related  that  once, 
when  on  his  way  to  visit  a  neighbor,  he 
saw  a  red  bird  and  a  black  bird  in  the 
same  tree  and  that  he  immediately  aban 
doned  his  journey  and  returned  to  his 
home  and  his  " beautiful  Nancy."  He 
had  been  told,  and  he  believed,  that  the 
two  birds — the  red  and  the  black — when 
together,  foretold  dire  disaster  to  the  com 
munity — bloodshed  and  sorrow. 

Thomas  Gollaher  used  to  plague  Mr. 
Lincoln  about  his  red-bird,  black-bird 
sign,  but  he  quit  when  Mr.  Lincoln  dis 
covered  that  Mr,  Gollaher  would  go  two 
miles  out  of  his  way  to  keep  from  meeting 
a  white  mule  before  noon  on  Friday. 

Some  five  miles  from  the  Lincoln  and 
Gollaher  homes,  on  the  tallest  peak  of 
Miiklraugh  Hill,  stood  the  huge  white 


THE  HUMAN  TREE          271 

trunk  of  a  dead  tree.  Every  limb  except 
two  large  ones,  and  every  bit  of  bark  had 
been  stripped  from  the  tree  by  Old  Fa 
ther  Time,  and  it  stood  like  a  ragged  sen 
tinel  keeping  watch  over  the  valleys  for 
miles  around.  The  two  remaining  limbs 
resembled  nothing  so  much  as  big,  brawny 
arms,  while  an  immense  knot  looked  not 
unlike  a  human  head.  This  ghost  of  the 
woods  could  be  plainly  seen  from  the  sur 
rounding  hills,  and  there  were  more  than 
a  few  people  had  faith  in  its  warnings  and 
belief  in  its  predictions.  The  more  sim 
ple-minded  would  climb  the  hill  to  com 
mune  with  the  old  white  trunk  whose 
spirit  had  passed  on  and  to  bring  home 
with  them  tales  which  opened  wide  the 
children's  eyes  and  sent  them  creeping 
fearfully  to  bed. 

"It  is  said,"  related  Mr.  Gollaher, 
"that  on  one  occasion  old  man  Pottinger 
came  home  quivering  with  excitement  and 
announced  that  the  tree  was  smoking  a 
pipe,  a  great  stream  of  fire  coming  from 


272  THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

its  mouth,  and  that  its  head  was  as  high 
as  the  clouds.  He  believed  the  end  of  the 
world  had  come,  and  begged  that  the 
neighborhood  be  notified,  so  that  every 
one  might  pray  before  the  final  collapse. 
He  was  a  maniac,"  said  Mr.  Grollaher, 
"and  they  had  to  tie  him  to  his  bed  and 
keep  him  there  until  he  died.  Another 
fellow  had  such  faith  in  the  tree  that  he 
obeyed  its  'orders'  under  all  circum 
stances.  Whenever  he  thought  one  of  the 
arms  pointed  north,  he  was  sure  that  win 
ter  would  soon  set  in ;  on  one  occasion  he 
even  gathered  his  perishable  vegetables  in 
July,  fearing  a  frost  would  come." 

"Abe,"  said  Austin,  "let's  climb  up  the 
hill  and  look  for  the  human  tree.  I  don't 
believe  it's  there,"  Austin  went  on,  when 
Abe  had  consented  to  go.  "I  reckon  since 
old  man  Pottinger  went  crazy  God  has 
blown  it  down." 

"It's  too  cloudy,"  suggested  Abe.  "The 
tree  is  still  there,  and  we  can  see  it  as  soon 
as  the  sun  comes  out.  There  it  is  now, 


THE  HUMAN  TREE          273 

with  its  arms  pointing  over  that  way,  and 
over  that  way  (one  to  the  east,  the  other 
to  the  west) ,  just  like  it  pointed  the  last 
time  we  saw  it." 

"Do  you  believe  in  it?"  Austin  asked. 

Abe  was  looking  down  into  the  valley 
below  them  and  said:  "Mr.  Keith  has  six 
sheep  down  there,  Austin,  and  they're  get 
ting  big  and  fat."  Then  to  Austin's  ques 
tion  he  answered  very  emphatically, 
"No." 

"Look  at  its  arm  pointing  over  the  hill ; 
that  ain't  the  way  it  pointed  the  last  time 
we  saw  it!"  exclaimed  Austin,  much  ex 
cited.  "I  believe  that  arm  is  pointing  to 
a  hill  that's  got  gold  in  it — the  gold 
mother  dreamed  of  and  told  us  about  that 
day  down  on  Knob  Creek.  What  do  you 
say  to  going  over  there  some  time  to  hunt 
for  it  ?  What  color  is  gold,  Abe  ? ' ' 

"Yellow." 

"It's  red  or  yellow,  I  don't  know  which. 
Will  you  go  with  me  some  time?" 

"Somebody  would  have  to  go  with  you 


274  THE  BOYHOOD  OE  LINCOLN 

because  you  don't  know  what  gold  looks 
like.  "Why  don't  you  get  Mr.  Hodgen  to 
show  you  some  of  it?  He  has  plenty." 

" Let's  go  to-morrow,"  pleaded  Austin. 

" I  won't  go  at  all,"  said  Abe  with  a 
tone  of  finality;  "I  don't  want  any  gold." 

"You're  afraid,"  accused  Austin. 

"No,  I  am  not,"  Abe  answered  quietly; 
"but  I  don't  want  gold.  What  could  I  do 
with  it?"  he  asked  in  all  seriousness. 

"I'll  tell  you  one  thing  you  could  do 
with  it,"  suggested  Austin.  "You  could 
send  to  Bardstown  and  buy  that  book 
you've  been  wanting  so  long.  What's  the 
name  of  it?" 

"R.  Crusoe,"  answered  Abe.  "I  will 
get  that  anyhow,  pretty  soon.  Mrs.  Hod- 
gen  is  going  to  have  it  brought  to  me  the 
next  time  any  of  the  men  take  a  flat  boat 
of  hides  to  Louisville." 

"I  want  you  to  read  part  of  it  to  me, 
Abe,  when  you've  learned  to  read  it." 

"Why  don't  you  want  to  hear  all  of 
it?" 


Austin  Gollaher,  Lincoln's  boyhood  friend  and  playmate 


THE  HUMAN  TREE  275 

"I  just  wanted  to  find  out  why  Mr. 
Crusoe  didn't  name  Friday  ' Saturday'!" 
Austin  answered,  grinning. 

After  a  moment's  silence:  "There 
might  be  a  bear  over  there,"  said  Abe 
meditatively. 

"See!"  replied  Austin  quickly,  "I 
knew  you  were  afraid." 

"I'll  go  with  you  if  our  mothers  will  let 
us,"  and  as  he  spoke  Abe  turned  to  the 
path  leading  home. 

"Why,  Abe,  you  know  they  won't  let 
us  go.  We'll  have  to  slip  off  if  we  go  at 
all." 

"I  won't  do  that  It's  too  far  to  go 
without  telling  them  where  we  are  going. 
If  they  said  we  could  go,  and  we  got  lost, 
they  would  know  about  where  to  look  for 
us.  Anyhow,  there's  no  gold  over  there, 
Austin,  and  if  you  keep  on  believing  in 
that  old  tree,  they'll  have  to  tie  you  to 
your  bed  when  you  get  old  just  like  they 
did  old  Mr.  Pottinger.  I  don't  believe  in 
that  tree  at  all,"  Abe  continued.  "If  I 


276  THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

wanted  to  believe  in  a  tree  I'd  choose  a  big 
live  one  with  leaves  on  it.  I  might  see 
something  in  that  to  help  me  know 
whether  it's  going  to  be  hot  or  cold,  or 
whether  it  will  rain  or  snow.  But  a  dead 
tree  can't  tell  you  anything." 

"A  few  days  after  this  conversation," 
said  Mr.  Gollaher  in  relating  the  story, 
"some  one  in  our  neighborhood  reported 
that  the  body  of  a  man,  badly  mutilated, 
had  been  found  at  the  foot  of  the  very  hill 
that  I  wanted  Abe  to  visit  with  me.  At 
first  it  was  thought  that  the  man  had  been 
attacked  by  a  hungry  bear,  but  it  devel 
oped  later  that  he  had  been  shot  through 
the  head,  perhaps  by  his  own  gun,  and  his 
body  mutilated  by  small  animals.  That 
was  the  last  time  I  ever  asked  Abe  to 
search  for  gold. 

"Abe  didn't  care  for  money,"  con 
tinued  Mr.  Gollaher.  "He'd  have  given 
the  whole  hill  of  it  for  that  book,  B. 
Crusoe." 


CHAPTER  XXXVI 

WHERE  IS  INDIAN  ANNER 

ABE  arose  from  the  split  log  bench  in 
front  of  the  Hodgen  home.  "Let's  go  in 
the  house  a  minute,  I  want  to  ask  Missus 
Sarah  something." 

"She's  ijpy  putting  up  berries,"  ob 
jected  Austin,  "and  we  oughtn't  to  bother 
her  now." 

Abe  paid  no  attention  to  this,  but,  look 
ing  very  solemn,  walked  leisurely  up  the 
narrow  path  to  the  house,  Austin 
following. 

"For  goodness'  sake,  Abe,"  Austin  ex 
claimed,  "don't  you  ever  get  tired  of  feel 
ing  bad?" 

Abe  made  no  reply. 

"Here,  boys,"  said  Mrs.  Hodgen,  "is 

277 


278  THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

some  bread  and  jam  I  was  just  fixing  for 
you." 

" Missus  Sarah,"  asked  Abe  presently, 
wiping  the  jam  from  his  mouth,  " where 
is  Indian  Anner?" 

"I  don't  know,  Abe,  I  never  heard  of  it. 
Why  do  you  ask?" 

"Because  father  keeps  talking  about 
going  there  to  live,  and  mother  don't  want 
to  go  and  neither  do  I. " 

"Oh!"  said  Mrs.  Hodgen,  laughing 
heartily,  "you  mean  Indiana.  Well,  In 
diana  is  several  miles  from  here.  You 
have  to  cross  a  big  river  called  the  Ohio 
before  you  get  there.  That  river  sepa 
rates  Indiana  from  Kentucky  just  like 
the  Rolling  Fork  separates  this  county 
from  Nelson  County." 

"The  Ohio— the  Ohio  Eiver,"  Abe  re 
peated.  "Wasn't  it  close  to  that  river 
that  father's  father  was  killed  by  the 
Indians?" 

"Yes,  your  grandfather,  Abraham  Lin 
coln,  was  killed  there,  and  your  uncle, 


WHERE  IS  INDIAN  ANKER    279 

only  a  little  boy,  shot  and  killed  an  Indian 
just  as  he  was  ready  to  strike  your  father 
with  a  tomahawk." 

" Abraham  Lincoln,"  said  Abe  medita 
tively,  "I  was  named  for  him  and  for  Mr. 
Abraham  Enlow,  too.  I'm  named  for  two 
men;  maybe  that's  what  makes  my  name 
harder  to  spell  than  Austin's,"  he  said 
dryly.  "I  don't  want  to  go,  Mrs.  Hod- 
gen,  but  if  father  makes  mother  go,  I'll 
have  to  go,  too.  We've  got  everything 
cleaned  up  around  here,  and  now  we'll 
have  to  clean  up  over  there.  We've  got 
our  schoolhouse  done  and  the  church 
nearly  finished,  and  what  more  do  we 
want?  But  father  says  big  game  is  get 
ting  scarce  around  here,  and  I  reckon  he 
thinks  there's  more  of  it  across  the  Ohio 
River.  I  wish  he'd  go  in  partners  with 
Mr.  Gollaher  raising  corn,  and  stay 
here." 

"  Don't  you  remember  what  the 
preacher  said,  Abraham,  that  everything 
is  for  the  best? "  asked  Mrs.  Hodgen. 


280  THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

6 '  Yes,  ma  'am.  Parson  Gentry  said  that 
over  in  the  Church  of  Maple  Trees,  but  I 
would  have  to  study  over  that  a  long  time 
before  I  could  believe  it;  it  sounds 
mighty  funny  to  me,"  and  the  boy  shook 
his  head. 

" Let's  go  look  for  that  coon  Mr.  Hod- 
gen  was  telling  us  about,"  said  Austin. 

"We'd  better  get  our  meal  and  go 
home;  it's  too  late  now,  and  anyway  I'm 
not  going  to  let  Honey  kill  a  coon,"  said 
Abe  in  that  tone  of  finality  which  Austin 
understood  so  well.  "I'm  feeling  funny 
down  where  my  heart  is,  and  I  want  to 
swing  in  Sarah's  swing  and  see  if  I  can't 
blow  some  of  this  lump  out  of  my  throat." 

The  two  lads  trudged  silently  along  the 
narrow  road  for  some  distance,  then  Abe 
began : 

"You  know,  Austin,  if  we  go  to  that 
place  across  the  big  river,  I'll  never  get 
back.  It's  hard  to  get  across  Knob  Creek 
sometimes,  and  I  know  I  could  never  cross 
that  big  river ;  so  when  I  tell  you  good-by 


WHERE  IS  INDIAN  ANNER    281 

I  reckon  I'll  never  see  you  again.  I'll 
give  you  the  crow  and  the  coon,  and  maybe 
I'll  give  you  the  goat.  But  I'm  going  to 
take  Honey.  Now,  Austin,"  and  Abe 
spoke  very  slowly,  "you  tell  your  father 
to  tell  mine  that  if  he'll  stay  here,  your 
father  will  help  him  with  his  crops  every 
year ;  and  when  I  get  bigger  I'll  help  your 
father  do  anything  he  wants  done." 

Austin  agreed  to  do  this,  but  added: 
"You  know  your  father  never  thinks 
about  crops.  Maybe  if  father  would  tell 
him  he'd  go  partners  and  set  a  lot  more 
traps,  he'd  be  more  willing  to  stay." 

"No,  don't  do  that;  father  has  enough 
traps.  I'd  rather  he  would  raise  more 
corn. 

"Austin,  I'm  learning  to  write  a  little 
bit,  and  if  we  go  to  Indiana  I'll  write  you 
a  letter  and  tell  you  about  things  over 
there.  I'll  give  it  to  somebody  passing 
and  ask  him  to  give  it  to  somebody  else 
and  some  time  you  would  come  across  the 
man  that  had  the  letter  and  he  would  give 


282  THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

it  to  you.  I  wish  you  would  learn  to  read 
and  write.  You  know  how  I  learned, 
don't  you?" 

"Yes,"  Austin  replied. 

" Let's  drive  some  stobs  in  the  ground 
and  tie  a  hen,  a  cat  and  a  dog  to  them,  and 
I'll  teach  you  just  like  Mrs.  Hodgen 
taught  me." 

Austin  agreed,  and  the  next  day  Abe 
opened  school,  but  it  was  slow  work  be 
cause  Austin  couldn't  fix  his  mind  upon 
his  studies, 

"Abe  was  very  patient,"  said  Mr.  Gol- 
laher,  "though  he  got  mad  two  or  three 
times,  and  I  said,  'Abe,  you  are  mad  at 
me.'  He  apologized  by  saying  he  had 
been  told  that  school-teachers  had  to  pre 
tend  they  were  mad  sometimes  to  make 
the  children  learn,  and  he  was  just  acting 
that  way  to  see  if  I'd  pay  more  attention. 

"After  a  time  I  did  learn  to  spell  hen, 
cat  and  dog,  and  could  write  these  words 
pretty  well.  Abe  seemed  very  happy  over 
my  progress,  and  Baid,  with  as  much  en- 


WHERE  IS  INDIAN  ANNER    283 

thusiasm  as  he  ever  displayed,  'Now, 
Austin,  if  we  do  go  to  Indi — Indiana,  I'll 
write  to  you  about  a  cat,  a  dog  and  a  hen, 
and  I  know  you  can  read  that  much  of  my 
letter." 


CHAPTER  XXXVII 

A  FIGHT  AND  A  STRANGER 

"ABE  had  his  likes  and  dislikes,"  said 
Mr.  Gollaher,  "and  while  always  sympa 
thetic  and  loving,  he  was  not  what  might 
be  called  a  ' goody-goody'  boy.  He  never 
cringed  though  he  often  cried,  and  met 
every  situation  with  a  heart  as  strong  as 
God  ever  put  in  human  breast.  He  was 
a  man  through  and  through. 

"Abe's  resentments  were  mild,  but  pos 
itive.  I  have  often  seen  him,  in  the  most 
unconcerned  way,  make  older  boys  'show 
the  white  feather.'  Once,  at  a  picnic,  a 
young  man  spoke  rudely  to  my  mother  be 
cause  she  reproved  him  for  grabbing  a  lot 
of  fried  chicken  from  a  tin  pan.  Abe  took 
up  the  matter : 

"  'You  mustn't  talk  that  way  to  Mrs. 
284 


A  FIGHT  AND  A  STRANGER   285 

Gollaher;  she's  too  good  to  everybody  to 
have  a  big  buck  like  you  talk  mean  to  her.' 

"  'What  are  you  going  to  do  about  it?' 
asked  the  young  man. 

"  'Well,'  said  Abe,  'I  haven't  made  up 
my  mind  what  I'll  do  about  it,  but  there 
are  a  good  many  things  I  could  do,  and  I'll 
just  show  you  one  of  them.' 

"With  that  he  jumped  up  like  a  kanga 
roo  and  wound  his  long  arms  about  the 
boy's  neck,  his  long  legs  around  his  body, 
and  they  rolled  to  the  ground. 

"  'Don't  do  that,  boys,'  cried  mother. 

"  'We  are  not  fighting,'  said  the  young 
man  who  had  'sassed'  mother,  'are  we, 
Abe?' 

"  'No,  sir,'  answered  Abe,  'it's  just  a 
little  friendly  contest  like  Mr.  John  Hod- 
gen  holds  down  at  the  mill  sometimes  be 
tween  boys,  just  to  see  which  is  the  best 
man.' 

"Both  boys  were  now  on  their  feet,  and 
Abe  said:  'I  think  you  ought  to  tell  Mrs. 
Gollaher  you  are  sorrj;.' 


286  THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

"The  young  fellow  at  once  stepped  up 
to  mother  and  said:  'Mrs.  Gollaher,  I 
acted  mighty  bad  and  I'm  sorry.' 

"Well,  sir,  that  did  mother  lots  of  good 
and  made  her  think  even  more  of  Abe 
than  ever.  She  told  Mrs.  Lincoln  about  it 
that  evening,  and  kissed  Abe  on  the  fore 
head  and  said  she  believed  she  thought  as 
much  of  him  as  she  did  of  her  own 
children, 

{ '  Then  I  said :  '  Mother,  you  tell  me  not 
to  fight,  and  you  are  kissing  Abe  because 
he  did  fight.' 

"  'No,'  said  mother,  'Abe  wasn't  fight 
ing,  and  besides  he  had  a  right  to  make 
the  boy  behave.  Abe  never  picks  a  quar 
rel — he  tries  to  stay  out  of  them.  If  we 
were  to  encourage  you,  Austin,  you 
would  be  fighting  all  of  the  time,'  " 

One  day  on  the  way  to  Knob  Creek 
school,  of  which  Abe  was  so  proud,  and  of 
which  he  often  told  his  friends  after  he 
became  president,  he  was  accosted  by  a 
man  who  said  he  wanted  to  buy  Honey. 


A  FIGHT  AND  A  STRANGER   287 

Abe  wouldn't  listen  to  such  a  thing  and 
told  the  man  positively  Honey  wasn't  for 
sale,  at  any  price.  Something  about  the 
stranger  was  not  pleasing  to  Abe.  His 
face  was  ugly  and  hard,  and  Abe  told  Aus 
tin  the  man  reminded  him  of  the  rotten 
trunk  of  a  small  tree  down  on  Knob 
Creek. 

"The  stranger  had  a  crippled  hand," 
said  Mr.  Gollaher,  "only  one  finger,  and 
the  arm  was  twisted  and  bent.  The  man 
inquired  about  the  cattle  and  sheep,  es 
pecially  the  sheep  in  the  community ;  said 
he  was  selling  a  remedy  that  would  make 
the  wool  on  a  sheep  grow  twice  as  fast, 
and  that  would  make  a  cow  give  twice  as 
much  milk.  When  Abe  returned  home 
that  evening  he  told  his  mother  of  meet 
ing  the  stranger  and  added  that  he  didn't 
like  the  man's  face,  and  thought  the  peo 
ple  had  better  be  on  the  lookout,  for  he 
might  be  crazy  and  poison  a  lot  of  sheep 
and  cows. 

"Four  or  five  days  later  John  Hodgen 


288  THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

found  the  carcasses  of  three  of  his  best 
sheep  way  over  there  in  the  woods,  two 
miles  from  home.  They  had  been  skinned 
and  the  skins  taken ;  no  doubt  slaughtered 
for  the  skins.  The  same  thing  happened 
a  few  days  later  to  several  of  Mr.  Pottin 
ger 's  sheep,  over  in  Nelson  County. 

"Of  course,  there  was  much  excitement, 
and  the  whole  neighborhood  was  aroused. 
Mr.  Pottinger  found  a  trail  of  blood  lead 
ing  through  a  dense  woods,  and  followed 
it  until  it  was  lost,  but  still  kept  up  the 
hunt  for  the  culprit,  remaining  in  the 
woods  two  days  and  two  nights.  On  the 
third  night  he  came  upon  two  men  skin 
ning  a  big  sheep  belonging  to  my  grand 
father.  Mr.  Pottinger  didn't  try  to  arrest 
the  men,  but  raised  his  rifle  and  shot  the 
largest  one  through  the  breast.  The 
smaller  man  escaped.  Everybody  in  the 
neighborhood  went  to  my  grandfather's 
farm  the  next  day  to  view  the  remains  of 
the  culprit.  As  soon  as  Abe  saw  the  man's 
crippled  arm  and  hand  he  said:  ' Honey 


A  FIGHT  AND  A  STRANGER   289 

was  right;  Ms  hair  wouldn't  have  bristled 
and  he  wouldn't  have  growled  so  if  he 
hadn't  known  that  was  a  bad  man. 

"  'What  do  you  think  about  Mr.  Pot- 
tinger  killing  the  man?'  I  asked  excit 
edly.  'I'm  glad  of  it,  because  he  might 
have  killed  some  of  us.' 

"  'Well,'  said  Abe,  'I  don't  care  much 
myself.  I'm  just  sorry  that  the  man  was 
a  thief.  I  reckon  he's  better  off,  and  I 
know  the  people  around  here  are.  I  hope 
he  didn't  have  any  little  children  who  are 
looking  for  him  to  come  home.' 

"  Indeed,  Abraham  Lincoln,  the  child, 
had  much  of  the  human  in  him,"  contin 
ued  Mr.  Gollaher.  "When  he  stood  there 
looking  down  upon  the  body  of  the 
stranger  he  was  perhaps  the  coolest  one 
in  the  crowd.  He  knew  the  man  should 
have  been  killed.  The  slaughter  of  the 
sheep  just  for  their  hides  was  enough  for 
Abe.  He  had  no  sympathy  to  waste — he 
was  just  sorry  the  man  was  a  thief. 
That  was  all." 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII 

FOR  THE  BEST 

THE  children  of  the  frontiersman  who 
lived  in  the  little  cabins  on  the  hills  or  the 
larger  ones  in  the  valleys,  were  happy 
youngsters,  because  they  were  so  close  to 
the  world  as  God  made  it ;  wearing  coats 
of  buckskin,  moccasins  of  calfskin  and 
caps  of  coonskins,  they  faced  joyously  the 
winter's  cold,  breathing  the  purity  of 
frozen  fields  and  woods ;  and  in  summer, 
in  flimsy  aprons  or  long-tailed  shirts, 
they  sought  the  beauties  of  the  silent 
hills;  they  loved  the  music  of  the  moun 
tain  stream,  the  singing  of  the  birds,  and 
the  whisper  of  the  wind  among  the  trees. 
They  knew  little  of  the  world  beyond,  and 
were  happy  in  the  velvet  gloom  of  the 
forest. 

290 


FOE  THE  BEST  291 

"Abraham,"  said  Mrs.  Lincoln  one 
morning,  "we  are  going  to  Mr.  Hodgen's 
grove  to-morrow  to  hear  the  Bible  read, 
and  I  want  you  and  Austin  to  listen 
closely.  And  you  must  fix  up  and  try  to 
keep  clean.  Many  children  will  be  there 
and  I  want  their  mothers  to  point  to  you 
as  good  examples  for  their  boys." 

The  great  host  of  people,  gathered  in 
the  grove,  spread  a  feast  under  the  trees 
at  noon,  and  everybody  was  enjoying  it 
until  Austin  got  a  fish-bone  in  his  throat. 
"There  was  considerable  excitement," 
said  Mr.  Gollaher,  "until  Mr.  Enlow  ran. 
his  big  fingers  down  my  throat  and  pulled 
the  bone  out." 

A  little  son  of  Joel  Walters  was  there 
with  a  goat  hitched  to  a  cart.  Abe  and 
Austin  were  greatly  interested,  though 
they  listened  strictly  to  the  reading.  But 
as  soon  as  the  benediction  was  pro 
nounced  they  turned  their  attention  to  the 
outfit. 

John  Hodgen  watched  the  boys  for  a 


292  THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

moment,  smiling,  and  then  called  them 
over  to  his  workshop  and  presented  Abe 
with  a  cart.  "I  just  finished  it  to-day," 
he  said,  "and  I  have  given  it  to  you,  Abe, 
because  you  have  the  goat;  but  you  un 
derstand  that  Austin  is  to  use  it  when 
ever  he  wants  to.  You  are  partners  in 
nearly  everything,  and  I  want  you  to  be 
partners  in  this,  too." 

"Austin  can  have  the  goat  and  cart  any 
time  he  wants  them,"  assured  Abe,  "and 
we  will  always  play  with  them  together, 
because  I  don't  want  to  drive  the  goat  un 
less  Austin  is  with  me." 

"And  that's  not  all;  go  tell  Missus  Sa 
rah  to  come  here."  When  she  came,  smil 
ing,  Mr.  Hodgen  said:  "Mother,  where 's 
that  set  of  harness  you  made  for  Abe's 
billy-goat?" 

"Well,  our  joy  was  complete,  never 
were  boys  happier  and  I  was  just  as  inter 
ested  in  that  cart  and  harness  as  if  they 
were  mine,"  said  Mr.  Gollaher,  "because 
I  knew  Abe  would  always  divide  up  with 


FOR  THE  BEST  293 

me.  They  were  wonderful  presents,"  lie 
continued;  "the  backwoods  boy's  highest 
ambition  was  to  own  such  a  team." 

"I  wonder  what  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Hodgen 
are  talking  about,"  said  Austin;  "they've 
been  over  there  ever  since  they  gave  you 
the  harness  and  cart.  See,  they  are  mo 
tioning  to  us;"  and  both  boys  started  off 
at  a  trot. 

"Austin,"  began  Mr.  Hodgen,  "next 
spring  I  want  you  to  help  me  at  the  mill ; 
I  have  talked  to  your  father  and  he  is  will 
ing.  Of  course  I'll  pay  you  for  your 
work." 

Abe's  head  dropped,  and  he  turned  to 
leave.  Then  Missus  Sarah  threw  her 
arms  about  him  and  pulled  his  big  sad 
face  up  close  to  her  own. 

"Now,  my  boy,  I  want  to  talk  to  you.  I 
want  to  tell  you  something,  and  I  don't 
want  you  to  be  heartbroken ;  I  want  you 
to  be  the*  big,  wonderful  manly  boy  that 
you  always  are.  You  won't  be  with  us 
next  spring,  or  you  know  Mr.  John  would 


294  THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

have  given  you  a  place  in  his  mill,  too. 
Mr.  John  told  Austin  about  the  place 
while  you  were  here  because  he  knew  you 
would  be  glad  for  Austin.  Your  father 
has  finally  decided  to  move  to  Indiana  be 
fore  winter  sets  in ;  to  start  about  the  first 
of  November." 

The  tears  were  now  gushing  from  Abe's 
eyes,  and  his  sobs  were  pathetic,  but  he 

^ 

only  said:    "I  don't  want  to  go." 

" Abraham,"  said  the  good  little  wom 
an,  "I  didn't  want  to  tell  you  to-day, 
but  your  mother  insisted  on  it.  Don't  cry 
any  more,  please,  but  make  up  your  mind 
the  move  is  for  the  best,  and  don't  let  your 
mother  know  how  bad  you  feel.  You  can 
come  back  to  see  us  some  time,  and,  if  you 
are  good  young  men  you  and  Austin  can 
take  Mr.  John's  mill  and  run  it." 

Abe  promised,  but  he  said:  "Missus 
Sarah,  I  don't  reckon  I  will  ever  come 
back." 

And  on  the  way  home,  the  tears  still 
glistening  in  his  eyes,  he  said:  "Mother, 


FOR  THE  BEST  295 

it  may  be  good  for  all  of  us  in  Indiana. 
We  may  settle  close  to  some  school,  and 
after  I  have  done  my  day's  work,  maybe 
father  will  let  me  borrow  some  books 
from  the  teacher,  and  I  will  read  and 
learn  something  by  the  pine-knot  fire  at 
night." 


CHAPTER  XXXIX 

THE  LAST  OF  BILLY 

NEAK  the  Lincoln  and  Gollaher  houses, 
upon  a  hill,  stood  a  tall  elm,  spread  like  a 
big  umbrella.  Near  its  trunk  circled  the 
ridge-road,  winding  on  to  Hodgen's  Mill, 
thence  to  Elizabethtown  and  on  to  the 
Ohio  Eiver,  where  some  enterprising 
"Hoosiers"  plied  a  fleet  of  flat  boats  for 
those  Kentuckians  who  wanted  to  cross 
over  and  continue  their  journey  through 
southern  Indiana  hills  until  the  trail 
dipped  into  wide  thoroughfares  leading  to 
the  big  cities  of  the  East. 

The  old  elm  tree,  when  its  foliage  was 
full,  offered  shelter  to  the  wayfarers.  It 
had  become  so  popular  that  some  thought 
ful  pioneer  had  placed  smooth  maple  logs 
around  its  trunk — an  inviting  seat  for 
296 


THE  LAST  OP  BILLY        297 

weary  travelers.  The  tree  stood  in  the 
center  of  the  hill,  welcoming  all  who 
passed  that  way.  To  the  north  the  hill 
dropped  rather  suddenly  toward  Knob 
Creek,  to  the  south  it  sloped  gently  to  the 
valley. 

Austin  thought  no  better  place  could 
have  been  selected  to  introduce  the  goat  to 
the  cart  and  harness  than  the  top  of  Elm 
Tree  Hill,  and  against  Abe's  better  judg 
ment,  it  was  there  they  made  the  trial — to 
see  just  what  Billy  would  do  when 
" hooked  up."  It  took  only  a  few  min 
utes  for  him  to  show  them  what  he  would 
do.  He  bowed  his  neck,  tucked  his  head, 
bellowed  a  loud  protest,  and  with  a  high 
leap  went  over  the  hill,  rolling  like  a  ball 
to  Knob  Creek  below.  To  the  lads  on  the 
hill  it  looked  like  an  irreparable  accident. 

"Austin,"  said  Abe,  "we  were  not  care 
ful  enough.  I  knew  this  wasn't  the  place 
to  hitch  Billy  to  the  cart.  A  goat  is  like  a 
mule ;  he's  just  as  apt  to  go  one  way  as  the 
other." 


298  THE  BOYHOOD  OP  LINCOLN 

"Well,"  said  Austin,  "I  don't  believe 
anything  was  hurt  much;  look  at  him 
standing  down  there  with  his  nose  in  the 
water." 

" Funny,  wasn't  it?"  remarked  Abe,  af 
ter  a  careful  examination  of  the  outfit. 
"Nothing  much  hurt,  but  the  next  time 
we  won't  choose  the  top  of  a  hill.  I  once 
heard  father  say  he'd  never  take  a  mule  to 
the  top  of  a  hill,  that  there  was  no  telling 
when  he  would  take  a  fool  notion  to  back 
off.  Why,  it  was  right  up  here  some 
where,  close  to  this  hill,  that  Mr.  McDou- 
gal's  mule  backed  over  a  ledge,  when  the 
family  was  passing  through  this  part  of 
the  country,  and  killed  their  youngest 
child.  Mrs.  McDougal  was  so  heartbroken 
she  wouldn't  go  any  farther,  and  that's 
how  they  happened  to  locate  here. 
Mother  remembers  all  about  it,  and  she 
says  God  has  lots  of  strange  ways  of 
changing  people's  plans.  So  to-morrow 
we'll  try  to  break  Billy  in  the  corn-field." 

But  the  boys  had  another  mission  on 


THE  LAST  OF  BILLY        299 

Elm  Tree  Hill.  They  had  been  directed 
to  keep  a  lookout  for  a  preacher  who  had 
sent  word  he  was  coming  to  begin  the  pre 
liminary  work  of  conducting  a  camp- 
meeting  in  the  Church  of  Maple  Trees, 
and  the  boys  sought  the  shelter  of  the  tree 
to  keep  their  vigil.  Abe  was  unusually 
reticent;  his  sad  eyes  were  fairly  devour 
ing  the  hills  and  valleys  as  the  September 
haze  hung  low  over  the  tree-tops. 

"I  wish  that  preacher  would  hurry  up 
if  he's  coming,"  said  Abe  impatiently. 
"I  don't  want  to  stay  up  here  any  longer ; 
I'm  tired  and  I  feel  like  there's  a  big  rock 
in  my  breast.  I  don't  want  to  go  to  Indi 
ana;  I  don't  want  to  leave  you;  I  don't 
want  to  leave  this  Hill  and  Knob  Creek ; 
I  don't  want  to  leave  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Hod- 
gen,  and  your  mother  and  father  and  little 
sister  and  brother;  I  want  to  stay  here 
and  work  in  Mr.  Hodgen's  mill  next 
spring.  I  think  about  it  all  the  time," 
Abe  continued  pathetically,  "and  last 
night  I  dreamed  about  it.  I  dreamed  we 


300  THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

were  there,  and  we  had  no  water,  and  we 
were  all  thirsty,  and  mother  fell  sick  and 
was  begging  for  water,  and  I  tried  to  come 
back  to  the  spring  there  by  our  house,  but 
I  couldn't  cross  the  Ohio  River ;  and  when 
I  got  back  home  sister  told  me  an  angel 
had  come  and  had  taken  mother  to 
Heaven,  where  they  had  water  upon  ev 
ery  hill  in  dippers  of  gold." 

Austin  was  amazed  at  Abe's  dream  and 
asked:  "Why  didn't  you  take  your 
mother  a  drink  from  the  Ohio  River?" 

" Because,"  Abe  solemnly  answered, 
"the  water  was  muddy,  and  big  ugly  cat 
fish  were  swimming  around  in  it.  Then  I 
got  wide  awake  and  didn't  go  to  sleep  any 
more,  and  before  the  sun  was  up  Honey 
and  I  went  to  the  spring  for  a  bucket  of 
water." 

Abe  and  Austin  watched  for  the 
preacher  until  twilight;  then  the  two 
heart-sore  boys  started  home  to  report  his 
failure  to  appear.  Billy  followed,  and 
Austin  pulled  the  cart. 


THE  LAST  OF  BILLY        301 

" Austin,"  said  Abe,  "I  don't  see  why 
Billy  couldn't  have  pulled  the  cart  like 
you  are  pulling  it. ' ' 

"I  don't  either,"  said  Austin,  " except 
that  Billy  ain't  as  old  as  I  am,  and  goats 
don't  have  as  much  sense  as  people,  any 
how."  To  which  Abe  very  solemnly  re 
plied  that  he  didn't  believe  the  goat  would 
ever  be  as  smart  as  Austin. 

Bright  and  early  the  next  morning  the 
boys  went  to  the  corn-field  and  after 
many  attempts  finally  got  Billy  har 
nessed  to  the  cart  and  were  ready  for  the 
second  test.  Billy  reared  and  fell  back 
ward.  He  butted  and  bowed  and  bel 
lowed,  then  laid  down. 

"Let  him  rest  a  while,"  suggested  Aus 
tin,  "and  when  he  gets  up  maybe  he'll 
take  a  notion  to  go," 

And  he  did.  He  went  like  a  whirlwind, 
jumping  and  butting,  Abe  holding  to  one 
line  and  Austin  the  other,  but  giving  Billy 
all  the  freedom  he  needed.  He  circled  the 
field  and  tried  to  climb  the  rail  fence,  but 


302  THE  BOYHOOD  OP  LINCOLN 

the  boys  pulled  him  back.  They  gave  him 
more  rein  and  he  scooted  away,  the  boys 
holding  him  within  the  limit  of  their 
speed.  At  the  end  of  the  field,  Billy 
stopped  suddenly,  then  plunged  high  into 
the  air  and  fell  to  his  destruction  upon 
the  sharp  stub  of  a  sapling. 

Both  boys  were  stricken  with  grief,  but 
Abe  gathered  his  wits  quickly  and  said: 
"It  couldn't  be  helped.  Billy  did  it  him 
self.  There  is  no  need  to  cry,  Austin. 
Well  come  down  here  after  dinner  and 
bury  Billy.  I  tried  to  be  good  to  him,  but 
he  never  seemed  to  like  me  much.  You 
can  have  the  cart  and  harness  when  I  go 
to  Indiana,  and  maybe  you'll  get  a  goat 
sometime,  and  can  break  him  before  he 
gets  too  old  to  learn.  I  won't  have  time 
any  more  for  goats.  Father  says  I  am  a 
pretty  good  chopper  and  will  be  a  great 
help  to  him  in  clearing  the  land." 


CHAPTER  XL 

THE  END  OF  PLAYTIME 

THE  first  tinge  of  frost  came  with  the 
closing  days  of  September — a  sign  that 
the  winter  would  be  late.  Thomas  Lin 
coln  had  never  known  this  sign  to  fail,  and 
he  was  well  pleased,  for  he  hoped  to  get 
comfortably  settled  in  his  Indiana  home 
before  the  severe  weather  set  in.  His  prep 
arations  were  going  forward  so  slowly, 
however,  that  Mrs.  Lincoln  was  becoming 
much  disturbed.  The  horrors  of  that 
February  blizzard  in  1809  were  still  fresh 
in  her  memory  and  she  was  afraid  a  like 
disaster  might  overtake  them  if  they  did 
not  reach  Indiana  before  the  winter 
began. 

With  the  exception  of  gathering  a  little 
bacon  here  and  grinding  a  little  corn 

303 


304  THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

there,  Mr.  Lincoln  had  done  nothing  in 
preparation  for  the  journey.  And  he 
could  do  nothing  until  he  procured  a  horse 
or  mule  to  hitch  to  the  old  spring  wagon 
he  managed  to  pick  up  at  Elizabethtown. 
That  was  his  chief  trouble.  He  had  no 
money  and  his  only  chance  to  get  a  work 
animal  was  to  swap  pelts,  corn  and  to 
bacco  for  it.  He  had  tried  to  make  such  a 
trade,  but  in  vain,  because  the  settlers  who 
owned  horses  and  mules  needed  them. 

Down  at  the  mill  Mr.  Lincoln  was  tell 
ing  his  troubles  to  Mr.  Hodgen ;  but  the 
miller  was  entirely  out  of  sympathy  with 
the  Indiana  project,  and  had  often,  and 
heatedly,  advised  against  the  move. 

"Thomas,"  said  Mr.  Hodgen,  "I  am 
much  interested  in  you  and  your  family, 
and  I  want  to  see  them  comfortable. 
Now,  since  I  know  your  mind  is  finally 
made  up,  and  nothing  short  of  your  own 
death  could  change  it,  I  am  going  to  make 
a  proposition  to  you.  You  can't  make 
that  trip  with  one  horse.  Your  wagon  is 


THE  END  OF  PLAYTIME     305 

too  heavy.  Your  family  can't  walk,  so 
you  must  not  start  with  one  animal.  Now, 
if  you  can  manage  to  trade  for  Jonathan 
Keith's  mule,  or  any  other,  I  will  make 
Abraham  a  present  of  old  Fanny.  The 
mare  is  old  but  in  good  condition,  and 
would  help  pull  you  out  of  many  a  mud- 
hole  between  here  and  your  journey's 
end." 

Mr.  Lincoln  was  most  grateful  for  this 
unexpected  kindness,  and  promised  to  get 
the  mule  from  Mr.  Keith,  or  one  just  as 
good.  On  his  way  home  that  afternoon, 
walking  with  Abe  and  Austin,  he  lifted  up 
his  head  and  thanked  God  for  the  good 
ness  of  John  Hodgen. 

But  Abe  said:  " Father,  you'd  better 
wait  until  you  get  the  mule,  because  if  you 
don't  get  it  you  can't  get  old  Fanny,  and 
I've  heard  Mr.  Keith  say  lots  of  times  he 
wouldn't  take  anything  for  that  mule." 

" Maybe  he  won't,  but  he  ought  to,"  re 
plied  Mr.  Lincoln,  " because  if  it  hadn't 
been  for  us  Jonathan  Keith  wouldn't  be 


306  THE  BOYHOOD  OP  LINCOLN 

here.  He  was  nearly  dead  that  day  we 
found  him  over  on  the  Rolling  Fork 
propped  against  a  tree." 

"Abe  was  right,"  said  Mr.  Gollaher, 
"Mr.  Keith  would  not  hear  of  such  a 
thing.  Then  Mr.  Lincoln  began  to  search 
in  earnest  and  one  evening  he  came  home 
leading  a  horse  that  was  a  sight  to  behold. 
Besides  being  old  and  thin,  it  had  a 
twisted  foot.  Mr.  Lincoln  had  traded  a 
few  pelts  for  it.  My  father  declared  he 
wouldn't  give  his  oldest  coonskin  cap  for 
the  animal,  but  Mr.  Hodgen  said  he  would 
keep  his  promise  on  one  condition: 
6  Feed  the  horse  well  for  four  weeks,  then 
I  will  examine  him,  and  if  I  feel  that  it 
will  be  safe  for  you  to  start  on  the  jour 
ney,  I  will  hand  old  Fanny  over  to  you,  as 
Abe's  property.'  And  Mr.  Lincoln  ac 
cepted  the  condition.  He  thought  of 
nothing  now  except  going  to  Indiana,  and 
spent  practically  all  of  his  time  looking 
after  the  horse.  He  rubbed  it  forty  times 
a  day  and  fed  it  everything  he  could  get 


THE  END  OF  PLAYTIME     307 

it  to  eat.  It  was  surprising, ' '  laughed  Mr. 
Gollaher,  "how  that  old  plug  felt  his  oats ; 
he  actually  tried  to  rear  up  one  day ;  then 
I  said,  'Abe,  you'll  be  moving  pretty 
soon.'  My  father  made  one  more  appeal 
to  Mr.  Lincoln  to  wait  until  spring,  but  he 
just  shook  his  head  and  said,  'I'm  going.' 

"Mrs.  Lincoln  and  Sarah  didn't  men 
tion  Indiana  when  they  could  avoid  it, 
and  Abe  was  as  silent  as  the  grave.  There 
was  gloom  in  the  little  cabin,  and  all  of  us 
felt  mighty  sorry  for  the  Lincolns,"  con 
cluded  Mr.  Gollaher.  He  was  silent  for  a 
moment,  then  went  on : 

"Out  there  on  the  bank  of  South  Fork 
— close  to  Cave  Spring  Farm,  in  the  old 
cemetery,  an  infant  brother  of  Abe  is 
buried;  his  name  was  Thomas  Lincoln, 
Junior.  In  recent  years  we  have  tried  to 
find  the  grave,  but  we  never  could.  Mrs. 
Lincoln  wanted  to  be  buried  there;  that 
was  one  of  the  reasons  she  didn't  want  to 
settle  in  Indiana.  A  few  days  before  they 
left,  my  mother,  Sarah,  Abe  and  myself 


308  THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

went  with  her  to  say  good-by  to  the  grave 
of  her  baby.  We  went  in  their  old  spring 
wagon,  pulled  by  Mr.  Keith's  mule  and 
one  of  my  father's.  Mrs.  Lincoln  covered 
the  grave  with  wild  flowers  and  vines  we 
had  gathered  along  the  way.  Then  we  all 
kneeled  down  there  on  the  hillside  and  my 
mother  prayed  while  Mrs.  Lincoln  said 
good-by  to  the  little  mound  under  the 
sheltering  trees.  On  the  way  back  we 
stopped  at  the  Old  Cave  Spring  to  get  a 
drink  of  that  good  water ;  and  we  climbed 
the  hill  to  the  cabin  in  which  Abe  was 
born,  that  his  mother  might  look  on  it 
once  again  before  she  left." 

Abe's  playtime  in  the  hills  had  ended; 
his  heart  was  heavy  when  he  went  among 
them,  and  he  would  often  weep  as  he  sat 
upon  their  moss-covered  rocks.  His  sad 
ness  deepened  and  he  said  little  when  with 
Austin,  except  to  beg  him  to  learn  to  read 
and  write. 

"I,  too,  was  sorrowful,"  said  Mr.  '€FoI- 
laher;  "  indeed,  I  nearly  broke  down.  I 


THE  END  OF  PLAYTIME     309 

looked  upon  his  departure  with  dread. 
My  love  for  him,  which  came  suddenly 
into  my  heart  when  I  was  trying  to  teach 
him  to  ride  a  stick-horse  out  there  on  the 
Cave  Spring  Farm,  was  past  the  under 
standing  of  even  my  own  people. 

"One  day  he  said  to  me:  ' Austin, 
did  you  ever  hear  them  tell  about  how  a 
poor  fellow  feels  the  day  before  he  is  to  be 
hung?  Well,  that's  the  way  I  feel,  only 
worse.  I'm  always  going  to  be  sad,'  he 
went  on,  'but  I'm  going  to  try  to  learn 
something,  and  if  I  do,  I  am  going  to 
teach  other  little  boys  to  read  and  write. 
"We  won't  be  together  much  longer,  Aus 
tin,  and  we  can't  hear  from  each  other;  so 
I'll  tell  you  what  we  will  do.  Every 
morning  when  the  sun  comes  up,  and  ev 
ery  evening  when  it  goes  down,  you  think 
of  me  and  I'll  think  of  you.  You  know 
Mrs.  McDougal  said  she  promised  her 
mother  to  do  that  when  she  came  here,  and 
she  has  kept  it  up  ever  since.  We  will 
just  do  that,'  said  Abe  slowly,  'and  I  will 


310  THE  BOYHOOD  OP  LINCOLN 

know  you  are  thinking  of  me  and  you  will 
know  I  am  thinking  of  you — when  the  sun 
comes  up  and  when  the  sun  goes  down.5  " 

Mr.  Gollaher  says  he  kept  this  up  for  a 
long  time,  and  thought  of  Abe  with  all  his 
strength,  and  he  believed  Abe  did  the 
same  thing. 

"But  I  reckon  he  finally  quit,  because 
when  he  grew  older  he  had  many  impor 
tant  things  to  do,  among  them  that  of  be 
ing  president  of  the  United  States,"  and 
the  old  man  wagged  his  head  and 
chuckled. 

"A  million  times  since  he  left  here  I 
have  seen  him  in  these  hills  with  Honey," 
the  old  fellow  said.  "  Why,  just  the  other 
day  I  went  down  to  Knob  Creek — down 
by  the  Nice  Stone,  and  there  I  saw  Abe — 
the  boy — with  that  sad  strange  expres 
sion  upon  his  face,  and  I  whispered,  'Abe, 
you  went  out  into  the  world  on  an  errand 
for  God,  and  now  youVe  come  back  to 
play  with  me.  Call  Honey  and  we  will  go 
out  in  the  woods  and  pester  the  squirrels/ 


THE  END  OF  PLAYTIME     311 

but  just  then  I  heard  the  dinner  horn  and 
I  tottered  back  to  the  house  where  I  have 
lived  for  nearly  a  century — lived  and 
thought  of  Abe,  and  thanked  God  that  He 
honored  me  by  letting  me  be  Abe's 
playmate." 


CHAPTER  XLI 

THE  PARTING  OF  THE  WAYS 

THE  November  sun  came  up  over  the 
hills  bigger  and  brighter  than  usual  that 
morning  as  if  to  cast  its  glints  of  gold  in 
the  path  of  the  Lincolns  at  they  traveled 
the  road  to  Indiana. 

The  spring  wagon  to  which  the  two  old 
horses  were  hitched,  stood  in  front  of  the 
Lincoln  cabin.  The  cow,  securely  hal 
tered,  with  Abe  and  Austin  at  its  head, 
was  ready  to  follow  the  wagon  over  the 
road  to  Hodgen's  Mill,  and  on  to  Middle 
Creek. 

Mrs.  Lincoln  and  Sarah  said  good-by 
to  the  Gollahers ;  Abe  had  received  his  last 
hug  from  Austin's  mother,  and  all  the  lit 
tle  Gollaher  children  had  hugged  and 
kissed  him.  Mrs.  Lincoln  and  Sarah 
312 


THE  PARTING  OF  THE  WAYS  313 

were  seated  on  a  bed  of  straw  in  the  front 
of  the  wagon,  and  all  were  ready  for  the 
departure. 

Mr.  Gollaher  and  Austin  were  going 
along  as  far  as  Middle  Creek,  to  help  with 
the  cow,  which  was  a  little  unruly,  greatly 
to  Austin's  delight.  With  much  waving 
of  hands,  but  in  silence,  the  journey  was 
begun.  The  tears  were  rolling  down  Mrs. 
Lincoln's  cheeks,  and  Sarah  was  wiping 
her  eyes  with  her  apron.  Thomas  Lin 
coln  and  Thomas  Gollaher  were  in  the 
lead.  Side  by  side  they  walked  and  talked 
of  their  plans. 

On  top  of  the  hill— Elm  Tree  Hill— Abe 
glanced  back  for  a  moment  at  the  cabin 
home,  now  deserted,  then  turned  his  eyes 
resolutely  to  the  red  clay  road  that 
stretched  ahead  of  him  and  moved  along 
with  the  free  swing  of  the  native  back 
woodsman. 

They  stopped  at  Hodgen's  Mill,  where 
Mr.  John  and  Missus  Sarah  were  waiting 
for  them,  with  a  basket  of  food  for  the 


314  THE  BOYHOOD  OP  LINCOLN 

journey.  Abe  and  Austin  looked  around 
the  old  familiar  mill.  Austin  cried  a  lit 
tle,  but  Abe  touched  him  gently  with  the 
palm  of  his  hand  as  he  said :  " Maybe  it's 
best  for  us  to  go.  I  may  come  back  some 
time,  and  then  we'll  run  the  mill  for  Mr. 
John." 

Mrs.  Hodgen  said  good-by  with  tears  in 
her  eyes — those  great  kind  eyes  that  al 
ways  sought  out  the  ways  of  goodness  and 
ever  looked  with  love  on  Abraham.  She 
hugged  him  close  and  said : 

"May  God  bless  you,  my  boy,  and  di 
rect  you  in  paths  of  righteousness.  I  feel 
that  you  have  some  wonderful  duties  be 
fore  you,  and  I  know  you  will  meet  them 
well." 

" Good-by,  Tom:  take  good  care  of 
Mrs.  Lincoln  and  the  children — and  old 
Fanny,"  said  John  Hodgen.  Then  he 
slipped  a  small  gold  piece  into  Abe's 
hand,  saying :  ' '  Buy  a  book  with  it,  son. ' ' 

The  cow  stopped  to  drink  down  at  the 
ford  below  the  gum-spring.  The  boys 


THE  PARTING  OF  THE  WAYS  315 

looked  up-stream  toward  the  old  mill 
where  they  had  spent  so  many  happy 
days.  Austin's  eyes  were  filled  with 
tears,  but  Abe  did  not  cry.  He  was  re 
signed  to  the  inevitable  at  last,  and  so 
turned  his  eyes  with  grim  determination 
to  the  task  before  him. 

They  reached  Middle  Creek  about  noon 
and  had  lunch  before  the  final  parting. 
But  Abe  could  not  eat ;  that  heavy  "rock" 
in  his  breast,  of  which  he  so  often  com 
plained,  was  now  heavier  than  ever. 

"Abraham,"  pleaded  his  mother,  "for 
my  sake  you  must  eat.  You  must  keep  up 
your  strength.  I  will  need  you  greatly; 
when  we  are  settled.  You  are  a  man,  my 
son,"  she  continued,  "although  in  years 
you  are  still  a  child." 

"Abe  obeyed  his  mother,"  said  Mr.  Gol- 
laher,  "but  he  choked  the  food  down  just 
to  please  her." 

"Good-by,  folks,"  said  Thomas  Golla- 
her;  "take  care  of  them,  Tom,  and  God 
bless  all  of  you." 


316  THE  BOYHOOD  OF  LINCOLN 

"Good-by,  Austin,"  said  Abe  simply, 
and  the  two  boys  wound  their  arms 
around  each  other.  Then  Abe  broke  away 
and  led  the  cow  across  the  stream,  Honey 
following. 

"I  watched  them  as  they  ascended  the 
hill,"  said  Mr.  Gollaher,  "the  wagon  in 
front,  Abe  and  Honey  and  the  cow  be 
hind;  I  watched  Abe — I  watched  him  till 
the  highest  peak  of  his  coonskin  cap 
ducked  below  the  hills,  and  then  I  fell 
upon  my  father's  neck  and  sobbed." 

THE  END 


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